es.
They'd have too much sense to go together.... Saddle up, you boys, an'
we'll--"

"Say, Bostil, I happen to know Slone didn't see Lucy last night,"
interrupted Holley.

"A-huh! Wal, you'd better talk out."

"I trusted Lucy," said Holley. "But all the same, knowin' she was in
love, I jest wanted to see if any girl in love could keep her word....
So about dark I went down the grove an' watched fer Slone. Pretty soon
I seen him. He sneaked along the upper end an' I follered. He went to
thet bench up by the biggest cottonwood. An' he waited a long time. But
Lucy didn't come. He must have waited till midnight. Then he left. I
watched him go back--seen him go up to his cabin."

"Wal, if she didn't meet him, where was she? She wasn't in her room."

Bostil gazed at Holley and the other riders, then back to Holley. What
was the matter with this old rider? Bostil had never seen Holley seem
so strange. The whole affair began to loom strangely, darkly. Some
portent quickened Bostil's lumbering pulse. It seemed that Holley's
mind must have found an obstacle to thought. Suddenly the old rider's
face changed--the bronze was blotted out--a grayness came, and then a
dead white.

"Bostil, mebbe you 'ain't been told yet thet--thet Creech rode in
yesterday.... He lost all his racers! He had to shoot both Peg an'
Roan!"

Bostil's thought suffered a sudden, blank halt. Then, with realization,
came the shock for which he had long been prepared.

"A-huh! Is thet so? ... Wal, an' what did he say?"

Holley laughed a grim, significant laugh that curdled Bostil's blood.
"Creech said a lot! But let thet go now.... Come with me."

Holley started with rapid strides down the lane. Bostil followed. And
he heard the riders coming behind. A dark and gloomy thought settled
upon Bostil. He could not check that, but he held back impatience and
passion.

Holley went straight to Lucy's window. He got down on his knees to
scrutinize the tracks.

"Made more 'n twelve hours ago," he said, swiftly. "She had on her
boots, but no spurs.... Now let's see where she went."

Holley began to trail Lucy's progress through the grove, silently
pointing now and then to a track. He went swifter, till Bostil had to
hurry. The other men came whispering after them.

Holley was as keen as a hound on scent.

"She stopped there," he said, "mebbe to listen. Looks like she wanted
to cross the lane, but she didn't: here she got to goin' faster."

Holley reach