After the ranch owner had been sent back to Bar X the men under Bud’s command rode until they reached the foothills. Dawn was breaking when the cowboys separated, each group going in an opposite direction. The plan was to make a wide detour and beat the mountains thoroughly. The leader of each party swore he would bring the halfbreed in dead or alive. They were all convinced that he had stolen Josephine away and that he had possibly been joined by Powers in the outrage.

Bud led one group of cowboys with Big Joe Turner in command of the other group. It fell to Mason’s lot to go with Turner, and he had as company Tex, Scotty and MacNutt, with a few others he was not so well acquainted with. Big Joe’s command was ordered to circle the mountains and search all available hiding places. Then they were to ride with all possible speed to Ricker’s and make inquiry there if they failed to pick up a clue in the mountains.

Both parties were to report at the Bar X ranch by nightfall and hold a consultation.

Bud had with him Buck Miller, Red Sullivan and the rest of the cowboys. The two parties numbered twelve picked men and they were all good fighters. Big Joe and his men rode all that day beating in and out of the mountains without a halt. MacNutt had kept up with them with amazing endurance, and even Scotty had begun to treat him with a little more respect. Mason was firmly convinced that the man had come among them with some secret purpose, and he determined to question him at the first favorable opportunity. There were times when MacNutt, thinking himself unobserved, would drop the mask of frivolous gayety, and a hard look would come into his eyes while he appeared to be thinking deeply. It was these sudden changes in the man that had caused Mason to regard him with suspicion.

None of the other cowboys of the ranch had noticed anything peculiar about the man outside of his levity, and Mason resolved to watch him more closely in the future.

It was an exhausted group of men that halted in the mountains that night to confer as to their next move. They had failed miserably to pick up any clue of the whereabouts of Josephine and her captors.

The cowboys were in an ugly mood by this time. On their hunt they had seen nothing of Bud and his men.

Mason’s strength had seemed superhuman as he untiringly urged the men on to greater efforts.

The shock caused by the halfbreed’s bullet had left him, and except for a faint scar on his temple he showed no signs of his close call from death.

Scotty was in a fretful mood and urged them to make Ricker’s at once in the hope of picking up some information.

“I’ll tell you what we had better do,” he spoke up eagerly. “We’ll go to Ricker’s and stand watch all night. We can stay just far enough away so they won’t get on to us, and maybe the half breed will try to sneak through our line. What do you think of the idea, Joe?”

Big Joe Turner did some quick thinking.

“Sounds good to me,” he said at last. “Bud wanted us to meet him to-night at Bar X, but if Powers is with the halfbreed, and I am convinced he is, we can do no better than to watch Ricker’s all night.”

“And there is a chance that one of them may try to sneak back there for supplies or something, and we will stand a chance of catching one of them,” cut in Tex, giving his belt an extra hitch.

The plan was agreed to at once, and they pressed their tired horses hard to get to the ranch before it became too dark. Scotty was delighted that his plan had been accepted, and listened eagerly as Big Joe explained the methods they were to employ.

“We will ride up to within fifty yards or so of the ranch,” he was saying, “and we will surround the house and keep watch all night. If nothing develops we will draw off in the morning and make for home to hear what Bud has to report.”

A set of signals was then carefully prepared and understood by all. By the time they reached Ricker’s it was quite dark, but the stars snowed plainly.

Big Joe placed his men and they all settled down for an all-night vigil.

Their horses had been picketed far enough away so that if any of them should whinny they could not be heard at the ranch. To Mason, who lay prone on the ground staring into the inky darkness, for the stars had disappeared and a faint breeze had sprung up, this watching was dull business. He was stationed next to Tex, and after catching himself on the verge of falling asleep, he gave a signal that Tex understood and wormed his way cautiously towards him.

“I nearly fell asleep, Tex,” he said in a low whisper as he made out the form of his fellow sentinel.

“This is new business for you, lad,” the other returned in a like whisper. “You looked about done up to-day, man.”

It was a fact and Mason admitted it to himself. What with the terrific riding and his constant worry about their failure to find any trace of Josephine, it all had raised havoc with his nerves. He realized at last that he was in love with her and the thought that she cared for Bud brought a groan of anguish from him. Tex, who had been searching his pockets, held a flask towards him.

“Here, Jack, take a drink of this brandy and brace up,” he said in a kindly whisper.

Mason hesitated. He had gotten over the notion of taking any strong drink, but he knew if he was to keep up his strength he must have some stimulant.

“Don’t be foolish, man,” Tex said in a curt whisper. “I know you need it, and we can’t have any one lag on us now; the boys are prepared to follow that devil of a halfbreed for weeks if they have to.”

Mason knew that Tex was right, and took a drink of the brandy. It proved to be just what he needed and he felt his strength returning. There would be no occasion for anybody to accuse him of lagging behind while Josephine was in danger, he resolved, gritting his teeth. He started to return to his former post, but Tex insisted that they keep watch together. Mason agreed, and they conversed in low whispers as the night wore slowly away. Once, during their vigil, Tex grasped Mason firmly by the arm, and he could feel that the cowboy’s muscles were set rigid.

“What is it, Tex?” he questioned with set lips.

“I’m sure I heard something move up there near the house,” the cowboy answered in a scarcely audible whisper. “I’m going to give the signal to find out if the boys heard anything.”

Tex imitated the call of the whippoorwill. The answering signal came back to them in the negative. The cowboy swore softly.

“I’m sure something moved up there near the house, but the boys didn’t hear or see anything, so all we can do is to watch,” he confided to Mason in a disgruntled voice.

The halfbreed had slipped by the cowboys on his mission to Waneda without being seen by them!

Shortly after this incident a light appeared in one of the rooms.

“Something doing now,” Tex muttered tersely.

A minute later a door opened on their side of the house and to the watchers’ astonishment Waneda, the Spanish girl, appeared carrying a lighted lantern.

“Now, what in thunder is she up to this time of night?” growled Tex, as he gave the recall signal.

The cowboys grouped around him in answer to the signal. Big Joe pushed forward.

“I saw the light and the girl,” he said guardedly, addressing Tex. “What do you suppose it means?”

“I can’t figure it out,” the cowboy replied with a puzzled air. “Unless some one is sick in the house and she’s going to the Post for medicine. Didn’t any one of you hear a noise just before I gave this last signal?”

They all protested that they had not heard a sound or seen anything move during their watch.

“What did you imagine you heard, Tex?” queried Scotty.

“I didn’t imagine it, I know I heard something move up there near the house, and it sounded like a scuffling noise,” Tex retorted angrily. “I’m watching that light now. The girl is leading a horse from the corral. Shall we hold her up when she gets a few miles away?”

“No, let her go,” Big Joe answered shortly. “Go back to your stations men, it lacks but a few hours before daylight, and keep a closer watch than ever. If you hear any noise that sounds suspicious again, Tex, give the signal and we will close in on the place and force an entrance.”

By this time both light and girl had vanished. Tex, who had been watching the corral, gave a snort of disgust.

“I think we made a mistake by not holding the girl up,” he said in a peeved voice to Mason.

“Oh, I think Waneda is too fine a girl to be up to anything crooked,” he answered in her defence.

The lanky cowboy stared hard at him.

“Then you don’t know the breed,” he said with a drawl. “Spanish or Mexican, all are greasers to me. Ain’t getting sweet on her be you? I remember now, that you saved her from the halfbreed one day.”

Mason’s face reddened.

“You jump at conclusions, Tex,” he said sharply. “No offense meant, Jack,” he returned earnestly, “only I wish we had stopped the girl.”

Nothing more was said between them, and they kept silent watch until the first streak of dawn appeared. Big Joe gave the recall signal. When the cowboys had assembled he gave the order to mount and make a quick trip home. The big fellow rode with Mason.

“Jack, I am anxious to hear if Bud had any luck,” he confided to him as they pushed their horses into a fast run.

Mason nodded.

“We’ve just got to find Josephine to-day if Bud hasn’t already found her,” he answered grimly.

They reached Bar X ranch at noontime by hard riding. There they heard good news, the first good news since Josephine’s disappearance. The ranch owner called Big Joe and Mason to the house immediately on their arrival.

“The Spanish girl from Ricker’s came here with a message for Mason this morning,” he burst out excitedly before they got fairly within hearing distance. “I called Bud and he told her Mason was away. She seemed disappointed at the news, but after saying she would leave the message in Bud’s hands, she left. It was addressed to Mr. Mason. After waiting a reasonable length of time, for he didn’t know when you were coming home, Bud opened the message. Well, he almost jumped out of his boots when he read it. The message told him where to find Josephine and how to capture her abductors. They have been gone about an hour now,” he concluded.

“Yes,” cut in his wife, beaming on Mason, “it seems according to the message that this Spanish girl wants to repay Mr. Mason for his kindness to her when she was attacked by the halfbreed. She got hold of information of the place where Josephine is held a captive, and hastened here at once with the information.”

“Sounds reasonable,” commented Big Joe.

“Wish we had stopped her now,” he added to Mason.

Josephine’s mother was almost beside herself with joy at the thought of the safe recovery of her daughter.

“Her dog Rover whined around the house for her,” the ranch owner was saying, “but soon he disappeared and hasn’t showed up since.”

“Where did the message direct them to go and find her?” Big Joe questioned. “They may need help.”

“Devil’s Gap,” the ranch owner answered.

“Devil’s Gap,” Big Joe repeated in wonder. “Why, we were through there three times yesterday, wasn’t we, Jack?”

“There’s something wrong about this,” Mason declared, his brows knitting.

“Bud said that the message read about Josephine’ captors moving about from place to place,” ranch owner explained.

Big Joe was getting impatient.

“Come on, Jack. We’ll go and talk it over with the boys,” he said, turning on his heel with an impatient frown.

Mason followed him. At the bunkhouse they made the cowboys acquainted with this new phase of the hunt.

“I told you so.” Tex cried in a matter-of-fact tone after Big Joe had finished speaking. “We had ought to have held the girl up as I wanted to. Somebody broke through our line last night, and the girl left the ranch soon after I heard that scuffling noise. We don’t know if that message is crooked or not.”

Big Joe was plainly impressed by Tex’s serious manner. Mason was leaning against the bunkhouse door listening wearily to their talk.

“I think we had better get together and make for the Gap. Bud may need help, Joe,” he said from the doorway.

Suddenly he straightened up and looked keenly down the trail. His eyes had caught sight of an object moving slowly towards the bunkhouse.

“Josephine’s dog,” he said aloud.

“What did you say, Jack?” Big Joe called from within.

“Josephine’s dog is coming down the trail and is limping badly,” he answered excitedly.

“Limping, you say, Jack?” Big Joe asked as he came out of the bunkhouse, the cowboys at his back.

“Yes,” Mason answered, “he must have got hurt some way.”

“Come here, old fellow,” he called, for the dog was almost up to them now.

The dog gave a whine of delight as he limped up to Mason and crouched at his feet.

“Poor fellow, his foot is bleeding,” he said as he bent over to examine the injured member. “Why, what’s this?” His eye had caught sight of something white tied to the dog’s collar.

He hastily unfastened the white object and was holding it up for the others to see, when a piece of paper fell to the ground.

“Josephine’s handkerchief and a note!” he cried, aghast, staring hard at the white missive.

Quickly snatching it up he read its contents.

“For God’s sake, boys,” he cried, his face blanching white.

“This note is from Josephine herself. She fastened it to Rover’s collar and sent him home. That message the Spanish girl brought is a decoy, and is leading Bud and his men into an ambush!”

Exclamations of fury broke from the men at his words. Big Joe instantly began giving orders to the cowboys after Mason had read the contents of the note to them.

“Into your saddles, boys,” the big cowboy thundered, his face pale and resolute. “I know a short cut to the Gap, and we’ll be in at the death if we can’t head Bud off. Ride, men, as you never rode before.”

The cowboys were in their saddles in a twinkling, and bending low on their horses’ necks they rode like demons in a race against odds.

Mason wanted to get his automobile out and join in the race against death, but Big Joe wouldn’t listen to his plan.

“It wouldn’t be of any use to us the way we are going into the mountains,” he said, gritting his teeth.

Pomp, the dusky cook, had been dispatched to the house with the note so the ranch owner would know why they had left in such a hurry. Scotty, who had the fastest horse among the cowboys, was drawing gradually away from them.

“Take the short cut, Scotty,” Big Joe ordered him. “When you make the Gap if you hear heavy firing, don’t join Bud, but start blazing away at the halfbreed’s gang and draw their fire. When we get there we’ll open fire on them from a different direction and hem them in if we ain’t too late. Do you get me, Scotty?” he yelled after him.

“I sure do,” the answer floated back to them. Scotty was riding low in the saddle, jockey style. He was making the ride of his life.

Mason was in a fever of suspense. His horse seemed to be only crawling along.

“Do you think we will be able to head Bud off in time?” There was a catch to his voice as he put the question to Big Joe, who was riding near him.

“Bud has only got about an hour’s start on us, and with the short cut we’re taking I have hope of saving him. If Scotty follows my instructions, everything will go all right, but I am afraid he will attempt to join Bud and get wiped out along with the rest of them. He’s such a hot-headed chump that if he runs into the halfbreed’s gang before Bud’s men do, it would be just like him to tackle them singlehanded,” came the unpromising answer.

The cowboys had turned off the main trail and had struck into the first range of foothills. Here, the climbing was extremely difficult, and a false step or a loose stone would send man and beast to certain death.

They were following a trail leading up into the mountains on the brink of a deep gorge.

Once, Mason’s horse stumbled and he gave himself up for lost with a prayer on his lips, but the faithful animal caught a secure footing again, although he could feel the horse quiver under him.

“Close call, old top,” he said cheerfully to his horse, as he patted him on the neck.

After an age, as it had seemed to Mason, of this kind of travel they reached a small plateau high in the mountains. Big Joe, who was in advance, called a halt, and raised a warning hand.

“Keep quiet as possible, men,” he said as the cowboys dismounted and crowded around him.

“There is Devil’s Gap just to the right of us a within good rifle shot. Scotty must be close by, too. Now, if the halfbreed and Powers are waiting there for Bud, they will keep under cover until he and his men show themselves through the pass. What we have got to do is to pick off the halfbreed’s men before they can get in their deadly work. I figure that they will show themselves just as soon as Bud gets through the pass. We won’t be able to see Bud’s men from here, but them devils will have to show themselves to us, and it’s up to you men to get them first.”

The men silently unslung their saddle guns. They each carried a thirty-thirty Remington repeater. Lying prone on the ground, they covered the plateau of Devil’s Gap while the minutes passed slowly. It was a range of about four hundred yards.

From a point of rock which they had their eyes glued upon, they saw the form of a man rise up with a leveled rifle in his hands.

“Bud must be coming through the pass, get that fellow!” Big Joe cried in a hoarse whisper.

Before the words had died from his mouth a shot rang out and the man with the gun pitched forward.

The shot that laid him low had come from somewhere on their left.

“That’s Scotty getting in some of his fine work,” Big Joe said with a chuckle.

Instantly five other men sprang from behind the rock and the firing became general. At the first shot Bud and his men had charged through the pass and taken to cover. Scotty’s shot had warned Bud that something was amiss and had put him on his guard. The firing had become too hot for the halfbreed and his cut-throats, and they had dropped back behind the rock again.

What they had intended for an ambush had been turned into a siege and they were the besieged.

The one who first rose up from behind the rock still lay where he had fallen. Big Joe commenced signaling to Bud to let him know of their presence.

“There were six men in the halfbreed’s gang, wonder where he got them all?” pondered Mason.

“The fellow that dropped first is one of them four men that joined Ricker’s lately. They are the men that Bud rounded up and sent to prison five years ago,” answered Tex.

“I believe you’re right,” agreed Big Joe. “It would be an easy matter for the halfbreed to get them to join him if they thought they had a chance to get Bud.”

A long silence followed, to be broken by a shot still farther off to their left. The firing increased to a volley of shots.

“Scotty is making it warm for them again,” said with a grin. “He is working around rear of them.”

“They can’t stand that hot fire much longer,” declared Big Joe. “Get ready for the men, they will make a charge soon.”

Five minutes later the halfbreed and his men broke cover and charged into the open, intending to fight their way through. Bud and his men advanced to meet them, and the rifle fire grew so hot that Powers and the halfbreed broke and ran. The men that Bud had sent to prison held firm, and walked straight into his fire with curses on their lips. Bud had been slightly wounded, and with bullets kicking up the earth all around him, it was a wonder he was not killed outright. Bud and Red Sullivan had dropped to their knees and were pumping a hail of bullets into the survivors of the halfbreed’s gang. Slowly they crumpled up and the fight was over.

“Get after Powers and the halfbreed, they are trying to escape,” Bud called to Big Joe.

Mason, who had been trying to get a shot at the ringleaders, saw them break and run like the cowards they were. He immediately set out after them in the hope that they would lead him to Josephine, and he intended to pick up Scotty, who had worked around in the direction of the fleers.

Big Joe had seen Mason mount his horse and start. He shouted something after him, but Mason was too far away to hear. Mason had determined to capture the halfbreed and Powers, and rescue Josephine, if it cost him his life. He kept a sharp lookout for Scotty, but could see no sign of him. Just ahead of him was a break in the mountains, and as he swung through it his keen eyes caught sight of his game. Powers and the halfbreed were only a short distance ahead of him.

They had seen him at the same instant. Mason’s eyes glittered. He pulled a heavy Colt revolver, emptying its chambers after them. A yell of defiance was flung back at him. The halfbreed was riding Josephine’s horse and, pulling sharply around, returned his shots.

The bullets sang uncomfortably close to his ears. His horse was behaving badly and he suddenly determined on a ruse. Powers had halted and was taking careful aim at him. Mason abruptly checked his horse and flung himself to the ground, pulling his saddle gun with him, just as Powers commenced firing.

His horse had been hit and let out an agonizing cry. The outlaws gave a cry of exultation when they saw him fall, thinking he had been killed. Mason had dropped near a large rock and kept a firm grip on his gun. Lying on his shoulder, he drew the rifle to his cheek and taking steady aim, fired.

The halfbreed reeled in the saddle and toppled off. A yell of surprise came from Powers, which quickly changed to alarm as one of Mason’s bullets nipped his face. He wheeled his horse and was off in a flash. It was Mason’s turn to be in an exultant mood. Running swiftly to where the halfbreed had fallen, he caught Josephine’s horse and sprang into the saddle.

The halfbreed cursed him as he mounted. He paid no attention to the cut-throat’s blasphemies as he urged Fleet to top speed.

“Now, Powers, we’re on something like equal terms,” he gritted to himself.

He began to rapidly overhaul the outlaw. The fugitive was getting desperate, and fired back at him several times, but his aim was poor. His grim pursuer was fast cutting down the distance between them.

Powers had his eyes set on a pass to a canyon just ahead of him and was making frantic efforts to reach it ahead of his pursuer. Mason saw his purpose, and spoke encouraging words to his panting horse.

“Faster, Fleet, faster, old boy, we’re going to save your mistress!”

The noble beast responded with a fresh burst of speed. Powers had reached the pass, and abandoning his horse took to his heels, disappearing through the pass. Mason quickly made the pass, dismounted, and looking to his weapons, plunged after him. He could hear his man from an occasional stone he dislodged. He was climbing the steep side of the gorge. Soon, the faint sounds from the outlaw ceased. Mason was puzzled and afraid the fugitive would give him the slip, but he determined to keep on climbing the steep side of the gorge, while running a chance of getting shot from ambush.

After a laborious climb he reached a small plateau where he beheld a sight that brought a cry of rage from his lips. It was Josephine struggling in the arms of the outlaw!

Mason instantly threw his rifle to his shoulder.

“Hands up! Powers, or I’ll fire,” he called sharply.

Powers looked up startled, and with bloodshot eyes.

“Shoot!” he cried savagely, swinging Josephine in front of him as a shield.

Mason lowered his gun in dismay.

“Why don’t you shoot?” Powers taunted him, still holding the girl in front of him.

“You coward!” Mason flung the words at him, his eyes blazing with fury. “Drop the girl and fight me like a man. I’ll fight you empty handed.” Suiting the action to his words, he threw his rifle and revolver on the ground.

Powers sneered.

“If you value this girl’s life, don’t move from your tracks,” he said, with a brutal oath, holding a knife up to Mason’s horrified eyes. “I’ll kill her with this knife if you don’t leave your guns here. Go back down the gorge and give me thirty minutes’ start and you can save her life. I am going to the coast with her and we’ll get married.”

“Powers, you’re crazy,” Mason answered to gain time. “If you harm that girl, I’ll hound you to your grave.”

Josephine had given a cry of delight when Mason first had borne down on Powers. Now, she had ceased struggling and was watching Mason with imploring eyes.

Powers showed signs of uneasiness. He was in fear his other pursuers would show up any minute.

“Come, give me thirty minutes’ start or the girl dies!” he threatened.

Great beads of sweat started on Mason’s forehead. He had about made up his mind to obey the fiend’s demand and take a chance of rescuing the girl later, when the sharp crack of a rifle broke the awful stillness, followed by a yell from above them.

Powers clapped his hand to his side and pitched forward on his face. Mason looked up to see where the yell and shot had come from, and saw Scotty standing on a huge boulder holding a smoking rifle in his hands and waving his hat at them. The girl stood looking down at Powers as though in a daze.

Mason leaped quickly to her side.

“Oh, Jack,” Josephine cried, her eyes swimming with tears, and collapsed in his arms.