But late that night, when the ranchhouse was dark, and a look through one of the windows of the bunkhouse showed Sanderson there were only two men awake--and they playing cards sleepily--he threw saddle and bridle on Streak and rode away into the inky darkness of the basin.
Shortly after dusk on the same night Silverthorn, Dale, and Maison were sitting at a table in Maison's private office in the bank building.
They, too, were playing cards.
But their thoughts were not on the cards.

Elation filled their hearts.
Dale was dealing, but it was plain that he took no interest in the game.

At last, with a gesture of disgust, he threw the cards face up on the table and smiled at the others.
"What's the use ?" he said.

"I keep thinking of what happened at Devil's Hole.

We ought to have been sure that we finished the job, an' we would have been sure if we hadn't known that that damned Colfax sheriff was hanging around somewhere.
"He took two hundred head from Sanderson--when he ought to have taken the whole damn herd--which he'd orders to do.