About the time that June and Jack Silver were leaving for the Two Bar X ranch, a rider came through the gate of the S\ Bar\ P; a rider who swayed down along the fork of his saddle, a limp arm hanging on each side of the horse’s neck.
The rider was Harry O’Steen, one of Buck Priest’s men—a red-headed, freckled cowboy; a laughing, rollicking sort of person, whose disposition did much to keep up the morale of the S\ Bar\ P.
Buck Priest was sitting on the ranchhouse porch talking with “Rowdy” Dow, another of his cowboys, when the horse came in. They could see at a glance that O’Steen had been hurt, and both of them ran down to him. They eased him to the ground and then carried him to the shade of the porch.
“Been shot twice,” declared Rowdy. “Gawd A’mighty, he’s all shot to strings!”
Buck Priest nodded shortly and knelt beside O’Steen, who was trying to talk. Rowdy ran through the house and came back with a dipper of water, which he held to O’Steen’s lips. Ken Mader and Dick Leeson, the two other cowboys, came from the bunk-house and joined them.
“Can yuh talk, Harry?” asked Buck anxiously. “Who shot yuh?”
O’Steen struggled painfully, trying to say something. It came in a jerky sentence—
“Rustlers—got—me—Porcupine—Creek—”
That was all. He closed his eyes, twitched slightly. Buck got to his feet, his old face twisted.