“You don’t have to do this,” Ditch said, “If it’s money you want, you and your boys are welcome to join up. I could use the help. You can ride into Abilene with us. I’ll feed you well, and I pay top wages.”

“Hear that?” the ringleader chuckled over his shoulder. “He wants to hire us?” The others with him laughed.

“It’s a fair offer,” Ditch said.

“That’s mighty generous,” the leader said, “but I’ve got a better one. How about we put you and your whole outfit in the dirt? Then we take your herd the last two hundred miles to Abilene by ourselves, sell ’em off, and get rich while you feed the worms? How’s that for a fair offer?” The other gunmen laughed again.

“I have an even better idea,” the biggest gunman said from beneath his scarf. He held two revolvers loosely in his hands.

“What’s that, Bob?” the leader asked.

“How about you and the others drop your guns?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me. Drop ’em.”

“What’s gotten into you?” the leader said. “Is this some kinda joke?”

“Nope. Drop those pistols, all of you. Won’t tell you again.”

The leader eyed the other three members of his crew. All were as confused as he was. He suddenly pivoted and brought his revolver from Ditch to the biggest member of his own gang. The other three outlaws followed suit.

The big outlaw fired both pistols twice. All four gunmen fell.

Ditch, Paul, Ruiz, and Knobby, the cook, all stared in bewilderment at the rustler who’d just shot his own gang in the middle of a robbery.

The big rustler pulled down his neckerchief, revealing his face.

“Howdy, Ditch,” Pritchard said. “Nice to see you.”

“Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Ditch exclaimed. He stood up and shook Pritchard’s hand while Paul and Ruiz checked the downed outlaws.

“What are you doing here?” Ditch asked. “And why the hell were you tryin’ to rustle our cows?”

“Picked up your trail a couple of weeks back,” Pritchard explained, as he reloaded and holstered his guns. “You don’t leave a hard track to follow, with three thousand cows as traveling companions. Ran into these four jaspers a few days ago. They were skulking along, following your herd from a distance. I introduced myself and played like I was a disgruntled hand you’d let go for stealing whiskey from the chuckwagon. They let me join their gang, seein’ as I supposedly had insider’s knowledge of your outfit and them needing an extra hand to help drive the cows into Abilene once they were taken.”

“These four boys are deader than Abe Lincoln,” Paul announced. “Headshots, every one of ’em.” He and Ruiz each shook Pritchard’s hand, and Ditch introduced him to the cook.