"Henry, you'll ride to Morton's. Tell him to be at your
place, with his crowd, by daylight. Then go home and be ready with
breakfast for the riders when they come in. We'll have to make your place
the center. It'll be hard on your wife and the girls, but Mrs. Morton will
likely go over to lend them a hand. I wish to God Mary was here."
"Never mind about my folks, Brian," returned the rancher as he mounted.
"You know they'll be on the job."
"You bet I know, Henry," came the answer as the mountaineer rode away.
Then--"Bill, you'll take every one between here and the head of the
canyon. If there's a man shows up at Carleton's later than an hour after
sunup, we'll run him out of the country. Tom, you take the trail over into
the Santa Ana, circle around to the mouth of the canyon, and back up
Clear Creek. Turn out everybody. Jack, you'll take the Galena Valley
neighborhood. Send in your men but don't come back yourself until you've
found that man who went down the canyon on horseback."
When the last rider was gone in the darkness, the Ranger said to the
artist, "Come, Aaron, you must get some rest. There's not a thing more
that can be done, until daylight."
Aaron King protested.
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