uch doubt which is now our leadin' city--Butte or
Rockvale," he remarked as he swung to his saddle and set off with two
deputies.

He found something more than overdone home town pride in Rockvale,
however. The narrow streets were filled with men, women and curious,
wide-mouthed children. Horses, packed for long riding, with rifles
bolstered to the saddles, were tied all along the rails of both the
main hotel and the station. Curt Sikes was the center of a changing
but ever interested group, but two of the Haines posse who had just
come in without any report of capture, but with all the vivid news of
the hold-up were now the main objects of attention.

Briefly they told the story of the pursuit. With Haines leading they
had struck a trail that took them to the river. They had waded the
river and found no trail on the other side. Knowing the bandits had
taken to the middle of the stream, Haines had divided his party. He
sent two men down stream, one on each side and he and the three others
rode up stream, two on each side.

After long rough riding Haines had found a trail coming out of the
water. All four had followed it a long way. There were three bandits
making the trail, but the three stopped and each took a different
direction, one straight up into the hills, one straight down into the
valley, and the other off here towards town. Haines and one man had
started on the trail to the hills. The other two--the two talking
now--had each taken one of the other trails, but had lost them. They
thought Haines would lose his, too. It had been a clean, up-to-date
expert piece of work--this kidnapping. The getaway had been a work
of art, just as the hold-up had been a wonder-piece of stage setting.

"You saw all the gang that held you up?" asked the Sheriff.

"We wasn't held up--tha'd a been a little too rich, I guess," said
one of the cowboys. "It was Boss Haines an' the girl that was
stopped."

"Well, then, I mean did Haines see the gang? Were any of them
Indians?"

"Injuns? No. The Boss thinks some of 'em were cattle-crooks from the
Case Egan outfit. I guess they ain't no Montana Injuns that'd start
anythin' like that."

"You guess a lot more than you know," said the Sheriff quietly. "I may
be calling on any of you boys for some fast work against old Red Snake
any of these days."

"What's the trouble, Sheriff?"

"Oh, just one of their devils brewing bad medicine again up at
Shi-wah-ki village