the boy reflected aloud.

"I don't expect you're armed, Phil?" Jim put the statement as a
question.

"Nope. Are you?"

"No, I ain't. Didn't think of it when I started. Oh, well, we'll make
out. Like enough there will be no need of guns."

A gray light was sifting into the sky, and still they rode, winding up
toward the peaks of the divide. Jim, leading the way, drew rein and
pointed to a cactus bush beside the trail. Among its spines lay a gray
felt hat. From it his eye wandered to the very evident signs of a
struggle that had taken place. Moss and cactus had been trampled down by
boot heels. To the cholla hung here and there scraps of cloth. A blood
splash stared at them from an outcropping slope of rock.

Jim swung from the saddle and rescued the hat from the spines. Inside
the sweat band were the initials L.K. Silently he handed the hat to
Phil.

"It's his hat," the boy cried.

"It's his hat," Jim agreed. "They must have laid for him here. He put up
a good scrap. Notice how that cholla is cut to ribbons. Point is, what
did they do to him?"

They searched the ground thoroughly, and discovered no body hidden in
the brush.

"They've taken him away. Likely he's alive," Yeager decided aloud at
last.

"Brill couldn't have been in this. He was at the Frying Pan before I
was."

"I reckon he ordered it done. If that's correct they will be holding
Larry till Brill gets there to give further orders."

Phil entered an objection. "That doesn't look to me like Brill's way.
He's not scared of any man that lives. When he squares accounts with
Keller he'll be on the job himself."

"That's so, too," admitted Yeager. "Still, I figure this is Healy's
work. Maybe he gave out there was to be no killing. He was at the ranch
himself, big as coffee, so as to be sure of his alibi."

"What does he care about an alibi? When he gets ready to go gunnin'
after Keller he won't care if the whole Malpais sees him. There's
something in this I don't _sabe_."

"There sure is. We've got to run the thing down _muy pronto_. No use
both of us going ahead without arms, Phil. My notion is this: You burn a
shuck back to the Frying Pan and round up some of our friends on the
q.t. Don't let Brill get a notion of what's in the air. Better make
straight for Gregory's Pass. I'm going to follow this trail we've cut
and see what's doing. Once I find out I'll double back to the Pass and
meet you. Bring along an extra gun for me."

"I don't recko