sk? Has any one been found
who could identify even his figure? No. Red Mask is a will-o'-the-wisp.
He's a ghost; and it's our business to find the body o' that ghost.
I'm not the fool to go around to Anton and say, 'You are Red Mask.'
He'd laugh in my face. An' later on I guess I'd be targettin' a shot
for him. What if I rounded to the gove'nor an' got him fired? It would
be the worst possible. Keepin' him here, and lying low, we have a
chance of puttin' him out of business. No, sir, we're dealin' with the
smartest crook west of Chicago. But I'll have him; we'll get him. I
never was bested yet. An' I'll have him, same as I get any other guy
that crosses me. Let's get on."

They moved out of the hut.

"It's been taking you some time, already," Tresler suggested with a
smile, as they moved across the open.

Jake took no umbrage. His dark face responded with a sardonic grin,
and his eyes were fiercely alight.

"Tchah!" he ejaculated impatiently. "Say, you never heard tell of a
feller gettin' his own good, an' gettin' it quick. Cattle-thieves
ain't easy handlin', an' I don't jump till I'm riled."

Tresler made no answer, and the two reached the stable without
exchanging another word. Inside they found Anton at work, cleaning
harness. He looked up as they came in, and Tresler eyed him with a
renewed interest. And the man's face was worth studying. There was no
smile, no light in it, and even very little interest. His smooth,
tawny skin and aquiline features, his black hair and blacker eyes, in
their dark setting, had a devilish look to Tresler's imagination. He
even found himself wondering where the good looks he had observed when
they met before had vanished to. Jake nodded to him and passed into
Bessie's stall at once.

"This is the mare, Tresler, the dandiest thing ever bred on this
ranch. Look at her points. See the coat, its color. Red roan, with
legs as black as soot. Say, she's a picture. Now I guess she'd fetch a
couple of hundred dollars away down east where you come from."

He said all this for Anton's benefit while he smoothed his hand over
Bessie's back. Tresler followed suit, feeling for the impression of
the saddle-cloth in the hair. It was there, and he went on inspecting
the legs, with the air of a connoisseur. The other saddle-horse they
treated in the same way, but the drivers were left alone. For some
minutes they stood discussing the two animals and then passed out
again. Anton had displayed not