he rode around the ridge, circled the rim of hills that
surrounded the basin, and dismounting from his pony, crept through a
scrub oak thicket to a point where he could look directly down upon
them.

He was surprised into a subdued whistle. Below him in the basin was an
adobe hut. He had been through this section of the country several
times but had never before stumbled upon the hut. This was not
remarkable, for situated as it was, in this little basin, hidden from
sight by a serried line of hills and ridges among which no cowpuncher
thought to travel--nor cared to--, the cabin was as safe from prying
eyes as it was possible for a human habitation to be.

There was a small corral near the cabin, in which there were several
steers, half a dozen cows, and perhaps twenty calves. As Ferguson's
eyes took in the latter detail, they glittered with triumph. Not even
the wildest stretch of the imagination could produce twenty calves from
half a dozen cows.

But Ferguson did not need this evidence to convince him that the men
who occupied the cabin were rustlers. Honest men did not find it
necessary to live in a basin in the hills where they were shut in from
sight of the open country. Cattle thieves did not always find it
necessary to do so--unless they were men like these, who had no herds
of their own among which to conceal their ill-gotten beasts. He was
convinced that these men were migratory thieves, who operated upon the
herds nearest them, remained until they had accumulated a considerable
number of cattle, and then drove the entire lot to some favored friend
who was not averse to running the risk of detection if through that
risk he came into possession of easily earned money.

There were two of the men, beside Leviatt and Tucson--tall,
rangy--looking their part. Ferguson watched them for half an hour, and
then, convinced that he would gain nothing more by remaining there, he
stealthily backed down the hillside to where his pony stood, mounted,
and rode toward the river.

Late in the afternoon he entered Bear Flat, urged his pony at a brisk
pace across it, and just before sundown drew rein in front of the
Radford cabin. He dismounted and stepped to the edge of the porch, a
smile of anticipation on his lips. The noise of his arrival brought
Mary Radford to the door. She came out upon the porch, and he saw that
her face was pale and her lips firmly set. Apparently something had
gone amiss with her and