this. Chip's pal said that he thought
the feller that did the branding was left-handed. The edge that was
deepest burned was on the other side from what it usually is when a
right-hander does it. Course, on account of the brands bein' mixed up
like, he couldn't say for sure, but that's the way it looked to him."

"Do you know of anybody round these parts that is left-handed?" asked his
employer.

"Can't say as I do," replied Sandy after a little meditation, "leastways,
on any of the ranches around here. I know some of the boys that is almost
as good with their left hand as the right, but not what you could call
p'intedly left-handed. And anyway them fellers is as straight as a
string, and I know they wouldn't mix up with any dirty work like that."

"Who had been riding herd on that north range before Buck saw the trail
of the drove?" asked Mr. Melton abruptly.

"Let me see," answered Sandy, cudgeling his memory. "Why," he said after
a moment, "it was Pedro. He had been up there three days before Buck
relieved him."

"Ah, Pedro," echoed Mr. Melton.

There was a significance in his voice that caused Sandy to look up
quickly, and, as he caught the look in his employer's eyes, a sudden
suspicion leaped into his own.

"What!" he exclaimed. "Do you mean that Pedro was in cahoots with the
gang?"

"I don't mean anything--yet," replied Mr. Melton slowly. "I don't want to
do any one an injustice, and I haven't a particle of evidence that Pedro
isn't as innocent as a new-born babe. He's a good rider and a good
herder, and we've never had any fault to find with the way he does his
work. But you know as well as I do that we didn't know a thing about him
when he came riding along looking for a job. We were short-handed then
and needed men desperately, and so we hired him, but I made up my mind
that as soon as things got slack, and we had to lay some of the men off,
he'd be the first to go. There may be good Indians and good Mexicans,
and it may be my misfortune that I never met them. But Pedro is a
half-breed--half Mexican and half Indian--and I've always noticed that
that kind is apt to have the worst qualities of both. I've never liked
him, but I've set that down to prejudice, and always tried to treat him
exactly like the rest of the men. Now, as I said, I may be entirely
wrong, but somehow I've got the notion in my head that those rustlers
knew just who was to be riding herd on that section when they made their
raid. B