o some the coroner's failure to hold her was
almost criminal.

His return to the hills was equivalent to running the gantlet. From
every ranch-gate men and boys issued, wall-eyed with curiosity. They, of
course, knew nothing of the raiding-party of the morning, but they
understood that something unusual had taken place, for was not the
ranger's saddle in his wagon, and his saddle-horse under harness, not to
mention a streak of blood along the flanks of its mate? The eyes of
these solitary cattlemen are as analytical as those of trained
detectives. Nothing material escapes them. Being taught to observe from
infancy, they had missed little of the ranger's errand.

"Who were you taking to the train?" they asked.

Hanscom's defense was silence and a species of jocular, curt evasion,
and he succeeded at last in getting past them all without resort to
direct and violent lying. As he had reason to suspect that one, at
least, of the riflemen of the morning belonged to the Blackbird outfit,
he decided to avoid that ranch altogether.

It would be absurd to claim that his nerves were perfectly calm and his
heart entirely unhurried as he crept across the mesa and dropped into
the wooded canyon just above the pasture fence. Although sustained by his
authority as a Federal officer, he was perfectly well aware that it was
possible for him to meet with trouble when the gang found out what he
had done.

Another disturbing thought began to grow in his mind. "If those raiders
watched me go down the hill, they may consider it a clever trick to drop
in on the Kauffman place and loot the house. They know it is unguarded.
Perhaps I ought to throw the saddle on old Baldy and ride over there to
make sure about it."

The more he considered this the more uneasy he became. "They're just
about sure to run off the stock, or be up to some other devilment," he
said. "They might set fire to the house." In the end he roped his extra
horse and set out.

Even by the cut-off it was a stiff ride, and it was nearly midnight as
he topped the last ridge and came in sight of the cabin. "Hello!" he
exclaimed. "Somebody _has_ moved in. I'm just in time."

A light was gleaming from the kitchen window, and the ranger's mind
worked quickly. No one but members of the raiding-party would think of
taking possession of this cabin so promptly. No one else would know that
the Kauffmans were away. "That being the case," he said, musingly, "it
stands me in hand to