He saw the leaping silhouette disappear, seeming to sink into the earth, but he knew that horse and rider were descending the slope; that it would not be long before they would thunder up to the ranchhouse--and he gripped the butt of his gun until his fingers ached.
He saw a blot appear from the dark shadows of the slope and come rushing toward him.

He could hear the heave and sob of the horse's breath as it ran, and in another instant the animal came to a sliding halt near the edge of the porch, the rider threw himself out of the saddle and ran forward.
At the first step taken by the man after he reached the porch edge, he was halted by Nyland's sharp: "Hands up!" And at the sound of the other's voice the newcomer cried out in astonishment: "Ben Nyland! What in hell are you doin' here ?" "Lookin' for Dale," said the other, hoarsely.

"Thought you was him, an' come pretty near borin' you.

What saved you was a notion I had of wantin' Dale to know what I was killin' him for! Pretty close, Deal!" "Why do you want to kill him ?" "For what he done to Peggy--damn him! He sneaked into the house an' hurt her head, draggin' her to Okar--to Maison's.

I've killed Maison, an' I'll kill him!" "He ain't here, then--Dale ain't ?" demanded Sanderson.
"They ain't nobody here," gruffly announced Nyland.