. He averred he had seen the
blood-stained Santa Fe saddle that had been taken off the horse when
the horse was found at daybreak of the day following the fight,
waiting at Sassoon's corral to be cared for. There could be, it was
fairly well ascertained, no mistake about the horse: the man knew the
animal; but his information threw no light on the fate of its missing
rider.

Though Scott had known first of de Spain's helpless condition in
his desperate flight, as regarded self-defense, the Indian was the
last to abandon hope of seeing him alive again. One night, in the
midst of a gloomy council at Jeffries's office, he was pressed for
an explanation of his confidence. It was always difficult for Scott
to explain his reasons for thinking anything. Men with the surest
instinct are usually poorest at reasoning a conviction out. But,
Bob, cross-examined and harried, managed to give some explanation
of the faith that was in him. "In the first place," he said, "I've
ridden a good deal with that man--pretty much all over the country
north of Medicine Bend. He is as full of tricks as a nut's full of
meat. Henry de Spain can hide out like an Indian and doctor himself.
Then, again, I know something about the way he fights; up here,
they don't. If those four fellows had ever seen him in action they
never would have expected to get out of a room alive, after a showdown
with Henry de Spain. As near as I can make out from all the talk
that's floating around, what fooled them was seeing him shoot at a
mark here one day in Sleepy Cat."

Jeffries didn't interrupt, but he slapped his knee sharply.

"You might just as well try to stand on a box of dynamite, and shoot
into it, and expect to live to tell it," continued Scott mildly, "as
to shoot into that fellow in a room with closed doors and expect to
get away with it. The only way the bunch can ever kill that man,
without getting killed themselves, is to get him from behind; and at
that, John, the man that fires the gun," murmured the scout, "ought to
be behind a tree.

"You say he is hit. I grant it," he concluded. "But I knew him once
when he was hit to lie out in the bush for a week. He got cut off once
from Whispering Smith and Kennedy after a scrimmage outside Williams
Cache two years ago."

"You don't believe, then, he's dead, Bob?" demanded Jeffries
impatiently.

"Not till I see him dead," persisted Scott unmoved.

CHAPTER XII

ON MUSIC MOUNTAIN

De Spain, wh