e on
so-called necessary business. More than once the others got started on a
meal ahead of him, and what food remained was cold, unappetizing, and
scant in quantity. There were other little things Lynch thought of from
time to time to make Buck's life miserable, and he quite succeeded, though
it must be said that Stratton's hard-won self-control prevented the
foreman from enjoying the full measure of his triumph.

What chiefly influenced Buck in holding back his big card and scoring
against them all was the feeling that Mary Thorne would be the one to
suffer most. He would be putting an abrupt finish to Lynch's game,
whatever that was, but his action would also involve the girl in deep and
bitter humiliation, if not something worse. Moreover, he was not quite
ready to stop Lynch's scheming. He wanted to find out first what it was
all about, and he felt he had a better chance of success by continuing to
play his present part, hedged in and handicapped though he was, than by
coming out suddenly in his own proper person.

So he stuck it out to the end, successfully suppressing all evidence of
the smouldering rage that grew steadily within him against the whole
crowd. Returning to the ranch for the first time in more than a week, he
went to bed directly after supper and slept like a log until breakfast.
Rising, refreshed and fit, he decided that the time had come to abandon
his former haphazard methods of getting information, and to launch a
campaign of active detective work without further delay.

Since the night of Bemis's accident, Buck had scarcely had a word with Bud
Jessup, who he felt could give him some information, though he was not
counting much on the importance of what the youngster was likely to know.
Through the day there was no chance of getting the fellow apart. But Buck
kept his eyes and ears open, and at supper-time Bud's casual remark to
Lynch that he "s'posed he'd have to fix that busted saddle-girth before he
hit the hay" did not escape him.

The meal over, Stratton left the kitchen and headed for the bunk-house
with a purposeful air, soon leaving the others well in the rear. Presently
one of them snickered.

"Looks like the poor rube's goin' to tear off some more sleep," commented
Kreeger in a suppressed tone, evidently not thinking Stratton was near
enough to hear.

But Buck's ears were sharp, and his lips twitched in a grim smile as he
moved steadily on, shoulders purposely sagging. When he ha