ce.
"Ther's our man, an'--it's Jim Thorpe. I thought I rec'nized him from
the first, when he broke cover. This is bully!"

But the stern-faced doctor had no answer for him. His eyes were fixed
on the man, who now stood calmly waiting for him to approach.
Experienced in such matters as he was, he looked for the threatening
gun in Jim Thorpe's hand. There was none. On the contrary, the man
seemed to be waiting for them in the friendliest spirit. There was his
horse, too; why was he on foot? It struck him that the riddle wanted
more reading than Smallbones had given it. He was not so sure he had
yet lost that three-year-old "driver."

Jim made no change of position as they clattered up. Smallbones was
ahead, with a gun leveled as he came.

"Hands up! Hands up, you dogone skunk, or I'll blow your roof off!" he
cried fiercely.

But Jim only grinned. It was not a pleasant grin, either, for the
hardware dealer's epithet infuriated him.

"Don't be a blamed fool, Smallbones," he said sharply. "You're
rattled."

"Put your darned hands up, or----!"

But Doc Crombie knocked the little man's gun up.

"Say, push that back in its kennel," he cried, harshly. "You sure
ain't safe with a gun."

Then, after seeing that his comrade obeyed him, and permitting himself
a shadowy grin at the man's crestfallen air, he turned to Jim Thorpe.

"Wal?" he drawled questioningly.

"Thanks, Doc," said Jim, with a cheery smile. "I guess you saved my
life. Smallbones shouldn't be out without his nurse." Then he glanced
swiftly down at the track he had been examining. "Say, I've hit a
trail right here. It goes on down to the river, an' I can't locate
it further. I was just going back on it a piece. Guess you've come
along in the same direction. See, here it is. A horse galloping
hell-for-leather. Guess it's not a lope. By the splashing of sand, I'd
say he was racing." He looked fearlessly into the doctor's eyes, but
his heart was beating hard with guilty consciousness. He was trying to
estimate the man's possible attitude.

"That's the trail we're on," the doctor said sharply. "Say, how long
you been here?" he inquired, glancing at Jim's horse.

"Well, round about here, getting on for two hours."

"What are you out here for, anyway?"

Jim glanced from the doctor to Smallbones, and then on at the rest of
the men. They were all cattlemen, none of them were villagers. He
laughed suddenly.

"Say, is this an--er--inquisition?"

"Sure."