ahead and throw a small, glinting object into the wheat.

"There! Seen it again," said Jake.

"I saw!... Jake, mark that spot.... Nash, slow down," yelled Anderson.

Lenore gathered from the look of her father and the cowboy that
something was amiss, but she could not guess what it might be. Nash bent
sullenly at his task of driving.

"I reckon about here," said Jake, waving his hand.

"Stop her," ordered Anderson, and as the car came to a halt he got out,
followed by Jake.

"Wal, I marked it by thet rock," declared the cowboy.

"So did I," responded Anderson. "Let's get over the fence an' find what
it was they threw in there."

Jake rested a lean hand on a post and vaulted the fence. But Anderson
had to climb laboriously and painfully over the barbed-wire obstruction.
Lenore marveled at his silence and his persistence. Anderson hated wire
fences. Presently he got over, and then he divided his time between
searching in the wheat and peering after the strange car that was
drawing far away.

Lenore saw Jake pick up something and scrutinize it.

"I'll be dog-goned!" he muttered. Then he approached Anderson. "What is
thet?"

"Jake, you can lambaste me if I ever saw the likes," replied Anderson.
"But it looks bad. Let's rustle after that car."

As Anderson clambered into his seat once more he looked dark and grim.

"Catch that car ahead," he tersely ordered Nash. Whereupon the driver
began to go through his usual motions in starting.

"Lenore, what do you make of this?" queried Anderson, turning to show
her a small cake of some gray substance, soft and wet to the touch.

"I don't know what it is," replied Lenore, wonderingly. "Do you?"

"No. An' I'd give a lot--Say, Nash, hurry! Overhaul that car!"

Anderson turned to see why his order had not been obeyed. He looked
angry. Nash made hurried motions. The car trembled, the machinery began
to whir--then came a tremendous buzzing roar, a violent shaking of the
car, followed by sharp explosions, and silence.

"You stripped the gears!" shouted Anderson, with the red fading out of
his face.

"No; but something's wrong," replied Nash. He got out to examine the
engine.

Anderson manifestly controlled strong feeling. Lenore saw Jake's hand go
to her father's shoulder. "Boss," he whispered, "we can't ketch thet car
now." Anderson resigned himself, averted his face so that he could not
see Nash, who was tinkering with the engine. Lenore believed then that
Nash