Already he saw the moving forms of men in the rapidly increasing light, and the following moment he was in the saddle riding like the wind toward the scene.
The men of the ranch were fighting the flames with all their might, and Old Broadbrim threw himself into the work with his accustomed agility.
For half an hour it was a battle for existence, and then the victory was but half secured.
The ranch house had been saved, but at terrible cost; the fine interior had been gutted, and the appointments almost ruined.
Belle Demona, with a strange pallor on her face, stood off and looked on.
Merle Macray, not far off, watched the last efforts of the men, and smiled when he saw Old Broadbrim at the head of the workers.
Beneath the midnight stars stood Ranch Robin, deplorable sight, almost uninhabitable and forlorn.
Old Broadbrim thought of Waters in his dungeon.
What had he done?
Was he safe, or had the fire found its way to him and put an end to his career?