uncommon
thing to see small groups of the anxious men engaged in deep discussion.
When they found that Buck must have been told and noticed his smile was
as fixed as Hopalong's or Johnny's, they were certain that trouble of
some nature was in store for them.

Several weeks later Buck Peters drew rein and waited for a stranger to
join him.

"Howdy. Is yore name Peters?" asked the newcomer, sizing him up in one
trained glance.

"Well, who are you, an' what do you want?"

"I want to see Peters, Buck Peters. That yore name?"

"Yes; what of it?"

"My name's Fox. Old Jim Lane gave me a message for you," and the
stranger spoke earnestly to some length. "There; that's the situation.
We've got to have shrewd men that they don't know an' won't suspect.
Lane wants to pay a couple of yore men their wages for a month or two.
He said he was shore he could count on you to help him out."

"He's right; he can. I don't forget favors. I've got a couple of men
that--there's one of 'em now. Hey, Hoppy! Whoop-e, Hoppy!"

Mr. Cassidy arrived quickly, listened eagerly, named Red and Johnny
to accompany him, overruled his companions by insisting that if Johnny
didn't go the whole thing was off, carried his point, and galloped off
to find the lucky two, his eyes gleaming with anticipation and joy. Fox
laughed, thanked the foreman, and rode on his way north; and that night
three cow-punchers rode south, all strangely elated. And the friends who
watched them go heaved signs of relief, for the reprisals evidently were
to be postponed for a while.

CHAPTER V

THE GHOST OF THE SAN MIGUEL

Juan Alvarez had not been in San Felippe since Dick Martin left, which
meant for over a month. Martin was down the river looking for a man who
did not wish to be found; and some said that Martin cared nothing about
international boundaries when he wanted any one real bad. And there was
that geologist who wore blue glasses and was always puttering around in
the canyon and hammering chips of rock off the steep walls; he must have
slipped one noon, because his body was found on a flat boulder at the
edge of the stream. Manuel had found it and wanted to be paid for his
trouble in bringing it to town--but Manuel was a fool. Who, indeed,
would pay good money for a dead Gringo, especially after he was dead?
And there were three cow-punchers holding a herd of 6-X cattle up
north, an hour or so from the town. They wanted to buy steers from Senor
Rodriguez