uh bring him back with yuh, an' see
yuh both get here by dinner time without fail."

Buck gave the desired promise and, hastily saddling up, departed. About
three miles from the ranch, he rode off to the side of the trail and
dismounted beside a stunted mesquite. Under its twisting branches, he dug
a hole with the toe of his boot and interred therein Miss Florence Denby's
letter, torn into small fragments.

This done he swung himself into the saddle and headed again for Paloma
Springs, and as he rode he began to whistle blithely.

CHAPTER XIII

COUNTERPLOT

"The low-down, ornery liar!" sputtered Bud Jessup, face flushed and eyes
snapping. "He told me to wait for them bolts if I had to stay here all
day. I thought it was kinda funny he'd let me waste all this time, but I
didn't have no idea at all he'd got me out of the way a-purpose to put
across that dirty deal. Why, the rotten son-of-a--"

"Easy, kid," cautioned Buck, glancing at the open door of the store.
"You'll have Pop comin' out to see what all the excitement's about, and
that isn't our game--yet."

He had found Bud alone on the rickety porch, kicking his heels against the
railing and fretting at his enforced idleness; and having hitched his
horse, he lost no time in giving the youngster a brief account of the
happenings of the night before.

"Not him," shrugged Jessup, though he did lower his voice a trifle. "The
up train's due in less than half an hour, an' Pop's gettin' the mail-bag
ready. That means readin' all the post-cards twice at least, an' makin'
out all he can through the envelopes, if the paper's thin enough. I often
wondered why he didn't go the whole hog an' have a kettle ready to steam
the flaps open, he seems to get so much pleasure out of other people's
business."

Stratton chuckled. This suited him perfectly up to a certain point. He
pulled the letter out of his shirt and was pleased to see that none of the
writing was visible. Then he displayed the face of the envelope to his
companion.

Bud's eyes widened. "Whew!" he whistled. "That sure looks like business.
What's up, Buck? Can't yuh tell a man?"

"I will on the way back; no time just now. Let's go in."

He led the way into the store and walked down to where Daggett was slowly
sorting a small pile of letters and post-cards.

"Hello, Pop!" he greeted. "Looks like I was just in time."

The old man peered over the tops of his spectacles. "Yuh be, if yuh want
to catch t