the way," said Ted, suddenly thinking of something. "You
remember I looked at the watermark on that first warning we received
from these terrible demons. Well, this screed has the same
mark--'Griffin Bond.' When I was in town to-day I went into the bank.
Old man Creviss was behind the counter, and that precious son of his was
beside him. I had a check cashed, and Mr. Creviss asked me why we didn't
keep our bank account there. I told him we had thought something about
it, but I didn't mention that we had decided not to. Then I asked him
for a couple of sheets of paper on which to write a note, and he handed
them to me. I took them to the window and held them up to the light to
see the watermark."

"And what was it?" asked Stella eagerly.

"The griffin."

"Then the paper on which these things were written came from the bank?"

"They certainly did. After I had looked at the watermark I turned to
young Creviss and looked him square in the eye. He turned as white as
chalk, and his lip trembled."

"He's a coward," said Stella positively. "Why didn't he bluff it out?"

"He had nothing to stand on; but, as you say, he's a rank coward, and
it's my opinion that it's only fear of Skip Riley that keeps him at it,
anyway. At all events, I gave him a good scare, for instead of writing
the note I folded up the paper and put it into my pocket. He stepped
forward as if he would interfere and make me give the paper back, not
having used it, but I gave him a glassy glare and walked out."

"Then it was he who wrote the warnings."

"Of course, and he knows that I have him dead to rights. That is another
mark against me with the gang."

"Better watch out."

"They can have me if they can get me."

CHAPTER VII.

SONG SHOOTS A WOLF.

Early one morning the broncho boys were startled out of their beds by
the double explosion of a shotgun, followed by excited yells and screams
of agony.

"That Chinaman has shot somebody," thought Ted, as he rapidly skipped
out of bed and pulled on his trousers.

In the living room he met all the boys, as scantily clad as himself,
hurrying out to see what the noise was all about.

They could hear Song behind the house screaming in Chinese at the top of
his voice, and in an ear-splitting falsetto, which showed that he was
tremendously excited.

Thither they rushed, and for a moment the ludicrous scene far
outbalanced the seriousness of what had happened.

On the ground was a young fel