t either of them."

"Couldn't I? Well, I just could. I'd--I'd shoot Cordts. And I'd whip
Joel Creech with my quirt. And if he kept after me I'd let Sarch run
him down. Sarch hates him."

"You're a brave sweetheart," mused Slone. "Suppose you were caught an'
couldn't get away. Would you leave a trail somehow?"

"I sure would."

"Lucy, I'm a wild-horse hunter," he went on, thoughtfully, as if
speaking to himself. "I never failed on a trail. I could track you over
bare rock."

"Lin, I'll leave a trail, so never fear," she replied. "But don't
borrow trouble. You're always afraid for me. Look at the bright side.
Dad seems to have forgotten you. Maybe it all isn't so bad as we
thought. Oh, I hope so! ... How is my horse, Wildfire? I want to ride
him again. I can hardly keep from going after him."

And so they whispered while the moments swiftly passed.

It was early during the afternoon of the next day that Slone, hearing
the clip-clop of unshod ponies, went outside to look. One part of the
lane he could see plainly, and into it stalked Joel Creech, leading the
leanest and gauntest ponies Slone had ever seen. A man as lean and
gaunt as the ponies stalked behind.

The sight shocked Slone. Joel Creech and his father! Slone had no
proof, because he had never seen the elder Creech, yet strangely he
felt convinced of it. And grim ideas began to flash into his mind.
Creech would hear who was accused of cutting the boat adrift. What
would he say? If he believed, as all the villagers believed, then
Bostil's Ford would become an unhealthy place for Lin Slone. Where were
the great race-horses--Blue Roan and Peg--and the other thoroughbreds?
A pang shot through Slone.

"Oh, not lost--not starved?" he muttered. "That would be hell!"

Yet he believed just this had happened. How strange he had never
considered such an event as the return of Creech.

"I'd better look him up before he looks me," said Slone.

It took but an instant to strap on his belt and gun. Then Slone strode
down his path, out into the lane toward Brackton's. Whatever before
boded ill to Slone had been nothing to what menaced him now. He would
have a man to face--a man whom repute called just, but stern.

Before Slone reached the vicinity of the store he saw riders come out
to meet the Creech party. It so happened there were more riders than
usually frequented Brackton's at that hour. The old storekeeper came
stumbling out and raised his hands. The riders