do you accuse me?" demanded Moore.

"I trailed you. I've got my proofs."

Burley stepped off the porch and carefully laid down his package.

"Moore, will you get off your hoss?" he asked. And when the cowboy had
dismounted and limped aside the sheriff continued, "Is this the hoss you
ride most?"

"He's the only one I have."

Burley sat down upon the edge of the porch and, carefully unwrapping the
package, he disclosed some pieces of hard-baked yellow mud. The smaller
ones bore the imprint of a circle with a dot in the center, very clearly
defined. The larger piece bore the imperfect but reasonably clear track
of a curiously shaped horseshoe, somewhat triangular. The sheriff placed
these pieces upon the ground. Then he laid hold of Moore's crutch, which
was carried like a rifle in a sheath hanging from the saddle, and,
drawing it forth, he carefully studied the round cap on the end. Next he
inserted this end into both the little circles on the pieces of mud.
They fitted perfectly. The cowboys bent over to get a closer view, and
Billings was wagging his head. Old Belllounds had an earnest eye for
them, also. Burley's next move was to lift the left front foot of
Moore's horse and expose the bottom to view. Evidently the white mustang
did not like these proceedings, but he behaved himself. The iron shoe on
this hoof was somewhat triangular in shape. When Burley held the larger
piece of mud, with its imprint, close to the hoof, it was not possible
to believe that this iron shoe had not made the triangular-shaped track.

Burley let go of the hoof and laid the pieces of mud down. Slowly the
other men straightened up. Some one breathed hard.

"Moore, what do them tracks look like to you?" asked the sheriff.

"They look like mine," replied the cowboy.

"They are yours."

"I'm not denying that."

"I cut them pieces of mud from beside a water-hole over hyar under Gore
Peak. We'd trailed the cattle Belllounds lost, an' then we kept on
trailin' them, clear to the road that goes over the ridge to
Elgeria.... Now Bridges an' Lindsay hyar bought stock lately from
strange cattlemen who didn't give no clear idee of their range. Jest
buyin' an' sellin', they claimed.... I reckon the extra hoss tracks we
run across at Gore Peak connects up them buyers an' sellers with whoever
drove Belllounds's cattle up thar.... Have you anythin' more to say?"

"No. Not here," replied Moore, quietly.

"Then I'll have to arrest you an' take