. I never cut that boat loose," he declared ringingly.

"Who're you?" queried Creech.

"My name's Slone. I rode in here with a wild horse, an' he won a race.
Then I was blamed for this trick."

Creech's steady, gloomy eyes seemed to pierce Slone through. They were
terrible eyes to look into, yet they held no menace for him. "An' Joel
accused you?"

"So they say. I fought with him--struck him for an insult to a girl."

"Come round hyar, Joel," called Creech, sternly. His big, scaly, black
hand closed on the boy's shoulder. Joel cringed under it. "Son, you've
lied. What for?"

Joel showed abject fear of his father. "He's gone on Lucy--an' I seen
him with her," muttered the boy.

"An' you lied to hurt Slone?"

Joel would not reply to this in speech, though that was scarcely needed
to show he had lied. He seemed to have no sense of guilt. Creech eyed
him pityingly and then pushed him back.

"Men, my son has done this rider dirt," said Creech. "You-all see thet.
Slone never cut the boat loose.... An' say, you-all seem to think
cuttin' thet boat loose was the crime.... No! Thet wasn't the crime.
The crime was keepin' the boat out of the water fer days when my hosses
could have been crossed."

Slone stepped back, forgotten, it seemed to him. Both joy and sorrow
swayed him. He had been exonerated. But this hard and gloomy Creech--he
knew things. And Slone thought of Lucy.

"Who did cut thet thar boat loose?" demanded Brackton, incredulously.

Creech gave him a strange glance. "As I was sayin', we come on the boat
fast at the head of the long stretch. I seen the cables had been cut.
An' I seen more'n thet.... Wal, the river was high an' swift. But this
was a long stretch with good landin' way below on the other side. We
got the boat in, an' by rowin' hard an' driftin' we got acrost, leadin'
the hosses. We had five when we took to the river. Two went down on the
way over. We climbed out then. The Piutes went to find some Navajos an'
get hosses. An' I headed fer the Ford--made camp twice. An' Joel seen
me comin' out a ways."

"Creech, was there anythin' left in thet boat?" began Brackton, with
intense but pondering curiosity. "Anythin' on the ropes--or so--thet
might give an idee who cut her loose?"

Creech made no reply to that. The gloom burned darker in his eyes. He
seemed a man with a secret. He trusted no one there. These men were all
friends of his, but friends under strange conditions. His silence was
trag