at, the old lady went, too, all of
'em on horseback; but the same slinking marauder got at the pack before
they could come up with it, and two of 'em had to be brought back in
arms. They all stopped here on the way home to tell about the mystery.
Brother and sister was very cheerful and mad about the sport, but their
manner was falser than ever. Mother says the pack is being ruined, and
she wouldn't continue the sport, except it has roused the first gleam of
interest her chits has ever showed in anything worth while. I caught the
chits looking at each other in a guilty manner when she says this, and
my curiosity wakes up. I says next time they go out I will be pleased to
go with 'em; and the old lady thanks me and says mebbe I can solve this
reprehensible mystery.

"In another three days they come by for me. The beagles was looking an
awful lot different from what I had first seen 'em. They was not only
beautifully scarred but they acted kind of timid and reproachful, and
their yapping had a note of caution in it that I hadn't noticed before.
So I got on my pony and went along to help probe the crime. We worked up
the canon trail and over the pass, with the pack staying meekly behind
most of the time. Just the other side of the pass they actually got a
rabbit, though not working with their old-time recklessness, I thought.
Of course we had to stop and watch this. Brother looked the other way
and sister just set there biting her lips, with an evil gleam in her
pale-blue eyes. Not a beagle in the pack would have trusted himself
alone with her at that minute if he'd known his business.

"Then we rode on down toward Cousin Egbert's shack, with nothing further
happening and the pups staying back in a highly conservative manner.
Brother says that yonder is the Mr. Floud's place he had spoken of, and
ma wants to know if he, too, goes in for ranching, and I says yes, he's
awfully keen about it; so she says we'll ride over and chat with him and
perhaps he can suggest some solution of the mystery in hand. I said all
right, and we ride up.

"Cousin Egbert is tipped back in a chair outside the door, reading a
Sunday paper. Whenever he gets one up here he always reads it clean
through, from murders to want ads. And he'd got into this about as far
as the beauty hints and secrets of the toilet. Well, he was very polite
and awkward, and asked us into his dinky little shack; and the old lady
says she hears he is quite mad about ranchi