start out again after we eat,"
assented Nort.

They rode along for a time in silence. Slowly the light in the east
grew. More and more rosy it appeared, now with golden streaks.
Morning was about to break forth in all its glory.

"I wonder if he could have had anything to do with it?" spoke Nort
suddenly, and apparently asking himself the question.

"Who?" inquired Dick a bit sharply. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the old Elixer peddler."

"Tosh?"

"Yes."

"How could he have anything to do with Bud staying away all night?"

"That's it. I don't know. I'm just wondering. Tosh is a queer old
crank, you know, and he may have met Bud and tried to sell him some
more of the stuff that Fah Moo got sick on."

"Well, there'd be no harm in that," remarked Billee. "Old Tosh
probably tries to sell everybody he meets some of his dope, on the plea
that it'll save them from the fate that overtakes so many in Death
Valley. No harm in that. Poor, old crank!"

"No harm in trying to sell--no," assented Nort. "But if Bud didn't buy
any bottles of the stuff--and he wouldn't be likely to--Tosh might have
got mad and kicked up a row. There might have been a fight and----"

"Oh, I don't think so!" interrupted Dick. "That's a little too far
fetched."

"Well, almost anything might have happened," argued Nort. "But I wish
we'd find him!"

The others heartily echoed the thought. They were nearing, now, the
entrance to the defile, or Smugglers' Glen. The sun was just peeping
up above the line of round hills which represented the horizon. A new
day was being born, but to those from Dot and Dash ranch it was not a
joyful day--or it would not be if the mystery over Bud remained
unsolved.

"I wonder if, by any chance, he could be up in there," mused Nort.

"Where?" asked Dick, who was gazing off across the range, his eyes
intently focused on a small, moving object that did not seem to be
either a cow or a horse.

"Up there where we found old Tosh making the witches' broth," and Nort
looked closely at his brother to see what was attracting his attention.
"I mean in Smugglers' Glen," went on Nort, for Dick had not turned.
"What you looking at?" suddenly demanded Nort.

"Why, I thought--I saw--" Dick was speaking in a preoccupied manner,
his gaze still fixed on that small, dark object.

Then, so suddenly that it startled all of them, as they sat on their
mounts, with back turned toward the defile, there came from the