Blair came in behind the stable, going softly. He knew that Torres and Garcia were not far away. He crawled through the corral fence, went slowly along the side of the stable and out through the other side of the corral.
There was still no sign of Torres and Garcia. Blair peered around the corner of the stable. He could see the door of the bathhouse, which was illuminated from a light within. From the ranch-house came the sound of muffled voices.
Blair scratched his nose and considered things. If someone came from the rear door of the ranch-house, they could see him. He did not like his position in the matter at all. Someone was moving around in the bathhouse, and now the occupant came out, carrying a lantern, which gave little light.
Blair flattened himself against the wall, between the corner of the barn and the corral, peering around to see which way the lantern-bearer was going.
Then there came a dull thud, and the man with the lantern went down, throwing the lantern aside, but not extinguishing it. Blair jerked back. Torres and Garcia ran past him, going around the corner of the corral and out to their horses.
In another minute he heard them riding swiftly away. The phonograph had started another turn.
Blair squinted thoughtfully as he peered out again. He could see the black bulk of the man on the ground, and the spluttering lantern near him.
Cautiously Blair stepped away from the corner and went swiftly over to the man, who was lying on his back. He picked up the lantern and stepped in close, throwing the beams of light into the face of the man on the ground.
For several moments Blair stared down at that face, oblivious to everything. He bent closer, holding the lantern on a level with his own face, as he peered into the features of the injured man. A voice spoke to him out of the darkness and he jerked upright, still clutching the lantern.