mpanion and studied it with a face of growing
astonishment.

"What's up?"

Lee dived into his pocket and drew forth the mask he had been wearing.
Silently he fitted it to the other. The pieces matched exactly, both in
length and in the figure of the pattern.

When the Southerner looked up his hands were shaking and his face ashen.

"For God's sake, Phil, what does this mean?" he cried hoarsely.

"Search me."

"It must have been--looks like the hold-up was somebody--my God, man, we
left this rag at the ranch when we started!" the rancher whispered.

"That's right."

"We planned this thing right under the nigger's room. He must 'a' heard
and---- But it don't look like Jim Budd to do a thing like that."

Norris had crossed the road again and was standing on the edge of the
lateral.

"Hello! This ditch is full of water. When we passed down it was empty," he
said.

Lee crossed over and stood by his side, a puzzled frown on his face.
"There hadn't ought to be water running hyer now," he said, as if to
himself. "I don't see how it could 'a' come hyer, for Bill Weston--he's
the ditch rider--went to Mesa this mo'ning, and couldn't 'a' got back to
turn it in."

The younger man stooped and examined a foot-print at the edge of the
ditch. It was the one Melissy had made just as she stepped into the rig.

"Here's something new, Lee. We haven't seen this gentleman's track before.
Looks like a boy's. It's right firm and deep in this soft ground. I'll bet
a cooky your nigger never made that track."

The Southerner crouched down beside him, and they looked at it together,
head to head.

"No, it ain't Jim's. I don't rightly _savez_ this thing at all," the old
man muttered, troubled at this mystery which seemed to point to his
household.

"By Moses, I've got it! The guy who did the holding up had his horse down
here. He loaded the sack on its back and drove off up the ditch. All we
got to do is follow the ditch up or down till we come to the place where
he climbed out and struck across country."

"That's right, Phil. He must have had a pardner up at the head-gates. They
had some kind of signal arranged, and when Mr. Hold-up was ready down come
the water and washed out his tracks. It's a blame' smooth piece of
business if you ask me."

"The fellow made two bad breaks, though. That piece of shirt is one. This
foot-print is another. They may land him in the pen yet."

"I don't think it," returned the old man with comp