ravennes, with whom Mr. Cassidy had
participated in an extemporaneous exchange of Colt's courtesies in
Santa Fe the year before, was the head of the organization and was also
chairman of the committee on arrivals, and the two gentlemen of the
Bar-20 had not been in town an hour before he knew of it.

Being anxious to show the strangers every attention and having a keen
recollection of the brand of gun-play commanded by Mr. Cassidy, he
planned a smoother method of procedure and one calculated to permit him
to enjoy the pleasures of a good old age. Mr. Travennes knew that horse
thieves were regarded as social enemies, that the necessary proof of
their guilt was the finding of stolen animals in their possession, that
death was the penalty and that every man, whether directly concerned or
not, regarded, himself as judge, jury and executioner.

He had several acquaintances who were bound to him by his knowledge of
crimes they had committed and would could not refuse his slightest wish.
Even if they had been free agents they were not above causing the death
of an innocent man. Mr. Travennes, feeling very self-satisfied at his
cleverness, arranged to have the proof placed where it would do the most
harm and intended to take care of the rest by himself.

Mr. Connors, feeling much refreshed and very hungry, arose at daylight
the next morning, and dressing quickly, started off to feed and water
the horses. After having several tilts with the landlord about the
bucket he took his departure toward the corral at the rear. Peering
through the gate, he could hardly believe his eyes. He climbed over it
and inspected the animals at close range, and found that those which he
and his friend had ridden for the last two months were not to be
seen, but in their places were two better animals, which concerned him
greatly. Being fair and square himself, he could not understand the
change and sought enlightenment of his more imaginative and suspicious
friend.

"Hey, Hopalong!" he called, "come out here an' see what th' blazes has
happened!"

Mr. Cassidy stuck his auburn head out of the wounded shutter and
complacently surveyed his companion. Then he saw the horses and looked
hard.

"Quit yore foolin', yu old cuss," he remarked pleasantly, as he groped
around behind him with his feet, searching for his boots. "Anybody would
think yu was a little boy with yore fool jokes. Ain't yu ever goin' to
grow up?"

"They've got our bronch," replie