n finally. "You see, it's getting dark now."

"You--you are going to leave him here?" asked Tad hesitatingly.

"That's all we can do, so far as I see. But we'll put one of the men on
guard to watch the place. To-morrow morning we'll take it upon ourselves
to tear down that door that's sealed up. It may lead into the place
where the boy fell in. Yes; we'll bring down the whole miserable shack
if necessary."

"You--you think he is here, then?"

"Of course. Where else could he be? He walked away and disappeared right
before your eyes. He could not get away if he had gone outside. So where
is he? In the church, of course."

"Then I will remain here and watch the place," decided Tad firmly.

Stallings glanced at him hesitatingly.

"All right. I guess you have got the nerve to do it. I can't say as much
for the rest of the bunch. You come along with me, now, and get your
supper. After that you may return if you want to. Big-foot, you and
Curley stay here until the Pinto gets back. Better keep busy. You may
stumble upon something before you know it."

The two cowboys did not appear to be any too well pleased with the task
assigned to them, but they obeyed orders without protest.

The evening had grown quite dark by the time the cowmen had finished
their supper. All had been discussing the strange disappearance of Stacy
Brown. It did not seem to surprise them. They had expected trouble when
they reached the vicinity of the adobe church. They had had little else
during the time they had been in the camp.

"Send Curley and Big-foot in," directed the foreman after Tad had
announced his readiness to return to the church.

"We'll all go," spoke up Ned Rector.

"It's not at all necessary," answered Tad.

"No; I have decided to let Big-foot go back after he has eaten. He can
remain with you until ten-thirty, when he takes his trick on guard. Then
the rest of you may go out if you wish. It isn't fair to leave the Pinto
there alone all night. If I change my plans I'll send out Master Ned or
Walter. Run along now, Tad."

The lad mounted his pony and galloped slowly out for his long vigil. He
was greatly disturbed over the loss of Chunky. Yet he could not bring
himself to believe that great harm had come to the boy.

"Anything new?" he called as he rode up.

"Nary a thing. Plenty of funny noises inside the shack. Kinder gives a
fellow the creeps; that's all."

"You are to come back and remain with me until your watch,