s so mighty slim that
we'd better be ready to ride when you got back," said the mountain
ranchman. "What's your program, Brian?" Thus simply he put himself and his
household in command of the Ranger.

The officer turned to the eldest son, "Jack, you've got the fastest horse
in the outfit. I want you to go down to the Power-House and find out if
any one there saw Sibyl anywhere on the road. You see," he explained to
the group, "we don't know for sure, yet, that she came into the mountains.
While I haven't a doubt but she did, we've got to know."

Jack Carleton was in the saddle as the Ranger finished The officer turned
to him again. "Find out what you can about that automobile and the man on
horseback. We'll be at the Station when you get back." There was a sharp
clatter of iron-shod hoofs, and the rider disappeared in the darkness of
the night.

The other members of the little party rode more leisurely down the canyon
road to the Ranger Station. When they arrived at the house, Brian Oakley
said, "Make yourselves easy, boys. I'm going to write a little note." He
went into the house where, as they sat on the porch, they saw him through
the window, his desk.

The Ranger had finished his letter and with the sealed official envelope
in his hand, appeared in the doorway when his messenger to the Power-House
returned. Without dismounting, the rider reined his horse up to the porch.
"Good time, Jack," said the officer, quietly.

The young man answered, "One of the company men saw Sibyl. He was coming
up with a load of supplies and she passed him a mile below the Power-House
just before dark. When he was opening the gate, the automobile went by. It
was too dark to see how many were in the machine. They heard the 'auto' go
down the canyon, again, later. No one noticed the man on horseback. Three
Company men will be up here at daybreak."

"Good boy," said Brian Oakley, again. And then, for a little, no sound
save the soft clinking of bit or bridle-chain in the darkness broke the
hush that fell over the little group. With faces turned toward their
leader, they waited his word. The Ranger stood still, the long official
envelope in his hand. When he spoke, there was a ring in his voice that
left in the minds of his companions no doubt as to his view of the
seriousness of the situation. "Milt," he said sharply.

The youngest of the Carleton sons stepped forward. "Yes, sir."

"You will ride to Fairlands. It's half past one, now