ger had brought me
orders and had returned. The fact that we had shifted mounts he could
not have read, for the reason--as I only too distinctly remembered--that
we had made the change in the boulder and rock stream bed which would
show no clear traces.

The thought that poor Jim Starr, whom I had well liked, had been
sacrificed for me, rendered my ride home with the convoy more deeply
thoughtful than even the tragic circumstances warranted. We laid his
body in the small office, pending Buck Johnson's return from town, and
ate our belated meal in silence. Then we gathered around the corner
fireplace in the bunk house, lit our smokes, and talked it over. Jed
Parker joined us. Usually he sat with our owner in the office.

Hardly had we settled ourselves to discussion when the door opened and
Buck Johnson came in. We had been so absorbed that no one had heard him
ride up. He leaned his forearm against the doorway at the height of his
head and surveyed the silenced group rather ironically.

"Lucky I'm not nervous and jumpy by nature," he observed. "I've seen
dead men before. Still, next time you want to leave one in my office
after dark, I wish you'd put a light with him, or tack up a sign, or
even leave somebody to tell me about it. I'm sorry it's Starr and not
that thoughtful old horned toad in the corner."

Jed looked foolish, but said nothing. Buck came in, closed the door, and
took a chair square in front of the fireplace. The glow of the leaping
flames was full upon him. His strong face and bulky figure were
revealed, while the other men sat in half shadow. He at once took charge
of the discussion.

"How was he killed?" he inquired, "bucked off?"

"Shot," replied Jed Parker.

Buck's eyebrows came together.

"Who?" he asked.

He was told the circumstances as far as they were known, but declined to
listen to any of the various deductions and surmises.

"Deliberate murder and not a chance quarrel," he concluded. "He wasn't
even within hollering distance of that rim-rock. Anybody know anything
about Starr?"

"He's been with us about five weeks," proffered Jed, as foreman. "Said
he came from Texas."

"He was a Texican," corroborated one of the other men. "I rode with him
considerable."

"What enemies did he have?" asked Buck.

But it developed that, as far as these men knew, Jim Starr had had no
enemies. He was a quiet sort of a fellow. He had been to town once or
twice. Of course he might have made an e