"Oldring's den! I've found it!" A knotty point for Venters was the fact that the cattle tracks all pointed west.

The broad trail came from the direction of the canyon into which the rustlers had ridden, and undoubtedly the cattle had been driven out of it across the oval.

There were no tracks pointing the other way.

It had been in his mind that Oldring had driven the red herd toward the rendezvous, and not from it.

Where did that broad trail come down into the pass, and where did it lead?
Venters knew he wasted time in pondering the question, but it held a fascination not easily dispelled.