But even without this last fact, the
evidence was strong enough. All of these happenings, taken together,
pointed unerringly toward the identity of one at least of the rustlers
and gave the clue to the mystery.
His first impulse was to follow the fleeing murderer and either try to
capture him or find out the rendezvous of the gang to which he belonged.
But when he ran out to his horse, the fugitive had vanished, and there
was nothing in the dusty road that gave any inkling of the direction he
had taken.
Pursuit being impossible, there was but one thing left for him to do. He
must get back to the ranch at once and reveal all he knew or guessed of
the conspiracy. Pedro, at any rate, would be within reach, and a
judicious application of the "third degree" could probably wring from
him enough to put them on the track of the rustlers and bring the gang to
justice. And his blood tingled at the thought of the fight that was
probably coming, for the rustlers, brought to bay, would not surrender
tamely. It was better to die from a bullet than dangle at the end of a
rope, and they would battle with the fierceness of cornered rats.
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