Chapter XXVI
Landy Fargo was not of a mind to have his plan go wrong, so he had given particular care to its details. He didn't want to take even the slightest chance of failure. Not probabilities alone mattered at a time like this: he must consider the remotest possibilities also. And he had not forgotten the pass through the Dark Canyon.
"They may try to drive the sheep out that way," he had said, "and if they get there before eight o'clock, they may make it. By eight at most, I should think, the fire'll get into it—and then of course they're blocked—penned in tight. And we don't want to forget the 'phone line on the old Lost River road—we don't want 'em to get to that and send for help until every pass is blocked. If they leave the sheep and try to ride out, they'll take that way—and that's why I don't want you to fire it earlier in a special trip. I want you to puncture the horse and the man. You can do it—I've seen you shoot too many times to think you can't. All you have to do is wait on the trail. The plan's only half done if that tenderfoot gets out alive—and that's the surest way to prevent it, and a way there won't
