ter when I saw her
after I had been up to Dick Grein's."

"Funny," commented Sanders. "Nobody would want water to irrigate at this
season. Who turned the water in? And why?"

"Beats me," answered Crawford. "But it don't worry me any. I've got
troubles of my own."

They reached the cottonwoods, and the oil prospector pointed out to them
just where the stage had been when the bandits first appeared. He showed
them the bushes from behind which the robbers had stepped, the place
occupied by the passengers after they had been lined up, and the course
taken by the hold-ups after the robbery.

The road ran up a long, slow incline to the Bend, which was the crest of
the hill. Beyond it the wheel tracks went down again with a sharp dip.
The stage had been stopped just beyond the crest, just at the beginning
of the down grade.

"The coach must have just started to move downhill when the robbers
jumped out from the bushes," suggested Dave.

"Sure enough. That's probably howcome Tim to make a mistake. He figured
he could give the horses the whip and make a getaway. The hold-up saw
that. He had to shoot to kill or lose the gold. Bein' as he was a
cold-blooded killer he shot." There were pinpoints of light in Emerson
Crawford's eyes. He knew now the kind of man they were hunting. He was an
assassin of a deadly type, not a wild cowboy who had fired in excitement
because his nerves had betrayed him.

"Yes. Tim knew what he was doing. He took a chance the hold-ups wouldn't
shoot to kill. Most of 'em won't. That was his mistake. If he'd seen the
face behind that mask he would have known better," said Dave.

Crawford quartered over the ground. "Just like I thought, Dave. Applegate
and his posse have been here and stomped out any tracks the robbers left.
No way of tellin' which of all these footprints belonged to them. Likely
none of 'em. If I didn't know better I'd think some one had been givin' a
dance here, the way the ground is cut up."

They made a wide circle to try to pick up the trail wanted, and again a
still larger one. Both of these attempts failed.

"Looks to me like they flew away," the cattleman said at last. "Horses
have got hoofs and hoofs make tracks. I see plenty of these, but I don't
find any place where the animals waited while this thing was bein'
pulled off."

"The sheriff's posse has milled over the whole ground so thoroughly we
can't be sure. But there's a point in what you say. Maybe they left their
h