With a shrieking and grinding of brakes Mason brought the car to a stop. After calming the fears of the girls he changed tires, his experience on the race track enabling him to accomplish this feat in a short time. He worked feverishly, fearing a second shot from out the dark as the car would make a good target for the unknown assassin. That the bullet which hit the tire was meant for one of them he had no doubt, and his mind coupled Spot Wells and the three strange riders with this new outrage.

He started the car off at a fast speed and breathed a sigh of relief when no shot followed them. Of the two girls, Mason could see that his sister was the more nervous and he tried to laugh away her fears. As the car gained momentum and they drew away from the danger spot his sister began to get more calm.

Josephine was quiet and appeared to be thinking deeply.

“Sir Jack,” she asked presently, “do you connect those four men we saw this afternoon with that rifle shot?”

“I’ll have to admit that I do,” he answered gravely; “anyway, I am going to report the incident to Bud when we arrive at the ranch.”

With increasing speed he shot the car ahead, and they were all relieved when a little later they drove to the ranch house and Mason put the car away.

In the morning he reported the matter to Bud. The sheriff grew serious at the news and immediately word was posted at Bar X ranch for the cowboys to keep a sharp watch for Spot Wells and the three strangers.

Mason saw very little of the girls for the next few days, his attention being taken up with matters about the ranch.

One morning, however, while working with the cowboys at the corral he was surprised to see the girls ride up.

They were accompanied by Percy Vanderpool, and Mason stared in amazement when he heard Josephine ask her father for permission to ride to Trader’s Post.

But his bewilderment increased when he heard her say that they intended to ride from there on to the Ricker ranch.

The ranch owner readily consented as he always had in the past two every wish of this girl of the plains. Bud made a mild protest which was seconded vigorously by Mason.

Josephine gave him an icy stare. He ignored her apparent chilliness and offered to go with them if they were so intent for the trip.

“Oh no,” she said the words with hauteur as she faced him. “You are too busy! Besides, Mr. Vanderpool is going with us.”

Mason looked Percy over in disgust.

“You could at least have one of the cowboys go with you,” he said, turning appealingly to Bud.

Before Bud could answer, Josephine cut in with a forced laugh.

She faced Mason again and he fancied he saw a reckless light in her eyes.

“There is no danger”; she spoke the words slowly; “you must remember that two of Bud’s cowboys are in charge of the Ricker ranch.”

At the rebuke the hot blood mounted into his cheeks. He felt the sting of her words and lapsed into silence as he watched them ride off.

“Josephine is a strange girl, and I cannot understand her,” he mused angrily. “Anyone would think she is sore at me for something. She never treats Bud that way; instead, she favors him all the time and that proves she loves him.”

Thus meditating, he passed a part of the morning away. Dinner time came and found him in a wretched state of mind.

Later, while idly chatting with the cowboys, a rider was observed coming from the direction of Trader’s Post.

The cowboys watched him keenly when they noticed he was riding furiously. Mason stood near Buck Miller and was amused at the eager way the cowboy was watching the rider’s approach.

He smiled grimly as he thought how such little things interested these cowboys. As for himself, his heart was heavy at the remembrance of Josephine’s attitude to him this day, and he was turning wearily away when he heard a sharp exclamation from Buck Miller which caused him to turn and look at him in surprise.

“That’s a dispatch rider from the railroad station below Trader’s Post,” Buck was saying. “He must have something important from the looks of his hoss; he’s ridden the critter until it’s most spent.”

Mason watched with interest as the dispatch rider swung up to them with his horse all lather.

Dismounting before his horse could come to a full stop he made his way directly to Bud Anderson.

“Message for you, Bud,” he panted; “must be mighty important too, for I was told to get here quick, even if I had to kill my horse. Reckon he’s about done for at that,” he added, watching the trembling animal with remorse.

Springing to Bud’s side, Mason watched him as he tore the message open. Bud hastily read its contents and silently passed it over to Mason.

It was a laconic message from Trent Burton and the news he read staggered him.

The message read as follows:

Ricker makes jail delivery. Jim Haley, Pete Carlo the Mexican, and Nick Cover with him. All headed for Nevada. Form posse and round up. Coming with deputy Jean Barry. News two weeks old.

(Signed)

Marshal Trent Burton.

Mason heard Bud giving orders to his men as though in a daze. His eyes caught sight of the message again and he read the words over. News two weeks old!

“Good God, Bud!” he cried in an agony of fear. “Do you realize what that message means? News two weeks old and my sister and Josephine in the clutches of that fiend at the Ricker ranch!”

Running like the wind to the shed where his racer was kept, he quickly had the engine spinning. The next instant he shot past the group of startled cowboys. They saw him feeling on his belt for his guns, and then man and car were swallowed up in a cloud of dust.