Pat Beals and one of the Double O riders had brought along the grub and they all lent a hand in getting breakfast. After that the horses were turned into the stockyard and fed while their riders slept in the cool shade of the water tank. It was noon before they were ready to start down the railroad.
Slim went into the tiny depot and spoke to the agent.
“What time will the freight be along to pick up the cattle?” he asked.
“About six o’clock. That gives them better than an hour to get the beef loaded.”
“Thanks,” said Slim. “Mind you now, not a word about this to anyone.”
A few minutes later an even dozen grim-faced cowboys started down the railroad, their horses refreshed by the feed and rest and the riders alert and ready for whatever blazing action the next few hours might hold for them.
The agent had given Slim explicit directions on just where the freight would stop and how the cattle were loaded. It was midafternoon when the cowboys reached the place along the right-of-way. Fortunately there was plenty of cover nearby, low undergrowth providing an excellent hiding place for riflemen while an outcropping of rock would shelter the horses from the rustlers.
Slim, Joe and Nels surveyed the scene carefully. There must be no slips. The trap must be carefully laid.
It was finally decided to place riflemen in the underbrush, holding several riders in reserve behind the rock outcrop. The minute the firing started, they would sweep out and cut off the escape. With the train blocking the railroad, the riflemen on each side and a mounted rear guard, there seemed little chance that the cattle thieves would be able to get away.
Nels took charge of the riflemen while Slim and Joe elected to ride with the men who would cut off the escape from the rear. By the time they had taken their places, a cloud of dust could be seen on the trail from the Cajons. The rustlers were coming, driving the stolen cattle leisurely, for there was ample time before the freight arrived.
A small stream ran a half mile back from the right-of-way and it was here that the rustlers paused to water the cattle. Slim, watching from the protection of the rock outcropping, counted six riders.
The sound of an engine whistle came to them faintly and he turned to see a plume of smoke far up the track. The local freight was coming. The rustlers heard the whistle and started the cattle moving toward the tracks. The showdown was near and Slim felt cool and ready for anything that might happen.