' Enright picks up one the coyotes overlooks. It
shows it's been cut off at the fetlock j'int by a knife.

"'This spectre,' says Enright, passin' the hoof to Peets, 'packs a
bowie; an' he likewise butchers his prey. Also, ondoubted, he freights
the meat off some'ers to his camp, which is why we don't notice no big
bones layin' 'round loose.' Then Enright scans the grass mighty
scroopulous; an' shore enough! thar's plenty of pony tracks printed
into the soil. 'That don't look so soopernacheral neither,' says
Enright, p'intin' to the hoof-prints.

"'Them's shorely made by a flesh an' blood pony,' says Peets. 'An'
from their goin' some deep into the ground, I dedooces that said
cayouse is loaded down with what weight of beef an' man it can stagger
onder.'

"That evenin' over their grub Enright an' Peets discusses the business.
Thar's a jimcrow Mexican plaza not three miles off in the hills. Both
of 'em is aware of this hamlet, an' Peets, partic'lar, is well
acquainted with a old Mexican sharp who lives thar--he's a kind o'
schoolmaster among 'em--who's mighty cunnin' an' learned. His name is
Jose Miguel.

"'An' I'm beginnin' to figger,' says Peets, 'that this ghostly rider is
the foxy little Jose Miguel. Which I've frequent talked with him; an'
he saveys enough about drugs an' chemicals to paint up with phosphorus
an' go surgin' about an' stampedin' cattle over bluffs. It's a mighty
good idee from his standp'int. He can argue that the cattle kills
themse'fs--sort o' commits sooicide inadvertent--an' if we-all trades
up on him with the beef, he insists on his innocence, an' puts it up
that his cuttin' in on the play after said cattle done slays themse'fs
injures nobody but coyotes.'

"'Doc,' coincides Enright, after roominatin' in silence, 'Doc, the
longer I ponders, the more them theories seems sagacious. That
enterprisin' Greaser is jest about killin' my beef an' sellin' it to
the entire plaza. Not only does this ghost play opp'rate to stampede
the cattle an' set 'em runnin' cimmaron an' locoed so they'll chase
over the cliffs to their ends, but it serves to scare my cow-punchers
off the range, which last, ondoubted, this Miguel looks on as a
deesideratum. However, it's goin' to be good an' dark to-night, an' if
we-all has half luck I reckons that we fixes him.'

"It's full two hours after midnight an' while thar's stars overhead
thar's no moon; along the top of the _mesa_ it's as dark as the inside
o