came over through the Galena Valley, from some
town on the railroad, up San Gorgonio Pass way--which isn't likely. If it
_did_ come from Fairlands, it must have waited somewhere along the road,
to enter the canyon after dark. Do you think that any one else besides
Myra Willard and Lagrange and you know that Sibyl started up here?"

"I don't think so. The neighbor where she borrowed the horse didn't know
where she was going."

"Who saw her last?"

"I think Mrs. Taine did."

The artist had already told the Ranger about the possible meeting of Mrs.
Taine and Sibyl in his studio.

"Hu-m-m," said the other.

"Mrs. Taine left for the East at four o'clock, you know," said the artist.

"Jim Rutlidge didn't go, you said." The Ranger spoke casually. Then, as if
dismissing the matter, he continued, "You get some rest now, Aaron. I'll
take care of your horse and saddle a fresh one for you. As soon as it's
light, we'll ride. I'm going to find out where that automobile went--and
what for."

Chapter XXXIII

Beginning the Search

Aaron King lay with closed eyes, but not asleep. He was thinking,
thinking, thinking In a weary circle, his tired brain went round and
round, finding no place to stop. The man on horseback, the automobile,
some accident that might have befallen the girl in her distraught state of
mind--he could find no place in the weary treadmill of conjecture to rest.
While it was still too dark to see, Brian Oakley called him. And the call
was a relief.

As the artist pulled on his boots, the Ranger said, "It'll be light enough
to see, by the time we get above Carleton's. We know the automobile went
that far anyway."

At the Carleton ranch, as they passed, they saw, by the lights, that the
mountaineer's family were already making ready for the gathering of the
riders. A little beyond, they met two men from the Company Head-Work, on
their way to the meeting place. Soon, in the gray, early morning light,
the tracks of the automobile were clearly seen. Eagerly, they followed to
the foot of the Oak Knoll trail, where the machine had stopped and,
turning around, had started back down the canyon. With experienced care,
Brian Oakley searched every inch of the ground in the vicinity.

Shaking his head, at last, as though forced to give up hope of finding
any positive signs pointing to the solution of the puzzle, the officer
remounted, slowly. "I can't make it out," he said. "The road is so dry and
cut up