still. Hit was dum hot thet day, an' he left
'is coat. 'Twa'n't wuth comin' back fer. I 'low the smell's about all
thet's left to hit."

Brant showed the tattered garment to the stag-hound, and bade the
animal smell it. The dog sniffed obediently a few times, sneezed as if
in disgust of the odor, regarded its master understandingly, and then
walked away.

"That's all that's necessary," Cyclone Brant declared. "The dog and I
are ready."

Forthwith, the three men, with the hound, set forth toward the
southeast, to cut the track of the outlaw near Sandy creek. They
followed the trail to a point some distance beyond the Woodruff Gate,
and then left it to ascend the precipitous slopes near the eastern end
of Stone Mountain. They were not far from Sandy Creek Falls, when the
marshal halted, and pointed out the remains of a camp-fire.

"This is where Hodges stopped to cook his supper the first night," he
explained. "I followed the tracks on to the creek, and up it to the
falls, where I lost them. Now, it's up to the dog."

A growl from the hound caused the three to look up, startled. There
was an exclamation from Uncle Dick, and the rifle leaped to his
shoulder.

"No, no--don't shoot!" Stone ordered. He, too, had seen and recognized
Garry Hawks, as the fellow, evidently disconcerted by their presence
there, slipped stealthily into the laurel. "He'll be more useful to us
alive presently," he explained to Uncle Dick, who had obeyed
protestingly.

"Thet's so, likely," the old man conceded grudgingly. Then he chuckled
harshly, for the first time since Plutina's disappearance. "Got his
right wing slung up! Did ye see hit? Tiny done hit--pore gal! Purty
peart at shootin', Tiny is. Thet-thar--"

"There's a fresh track here made by Hodges," the marshal exclaimed,
interrupting. He pointed to a plain imprint on the dirt covering of a
flat rock.

Brant brought his dog to the spot, pointed to the footprint, and
slipped the leash. The hound lowered its head, snuffed at the ground,
and gave tongue. In the same second, it was off at speed, running with
muzzle low, with the continuous whining yelps that told of a warm
scent. It did not vanish into the coverts as all had expected, but
followed through the open place that led to the northward, skirting
the wood. As the men hurried after, they caught a final glimpse of the
dog two hundred yards beyond, just disappearing over a ridge. They
followed the sound of its baying with what h