Brokenly, he told Lawler what had happened after the stampeding of the cattle by Antrim's men.

He related, in tumbling, rapid, quavering sentences, how he had got the help Blackburn had sent him for--Caldwell's outfit--with the exception of two men who had been sent in different directions to other ranches.
And how, later in the morning, he had returned to the shallow gulley on the plains where he had left Blackburn and the others, to find most of them dead.

Blackburn and three more had been wounded, but had survived.
"Fifteen men, Lawler!" raged Shorty; "fifteen men wiped out by that miserable gang of coyotes! But damn them!" he added with a fierce, savage joy; "they didn't get away without payin' toll, either! There's twenty of them layin' out there, Lawler--twenty of them for the coyotes to find.

For Caldwell an' his outfit wouldn't touch 'em.

When I left, to come an' tell you--thinkin' you was in jail--Caldwell an' his boys was plantin' our fellows, an' takin' Blackburn and the three others to the Hamlin shack!" He looked hard at Lawler, noted the paleness of the man's face, and then spoke less excitedly, and with deep regret in his voice.
"Lawler, I hate to tell you this.