along. But I'm ridin' into Mexico to-morrow to see what I can see.
I'll try to have the six hundred head of S Bar cattle in Mariposa the
next day, some way or anothah."

Bold was the word! The quartet talked until a late hour. The three
riders had caught some of The Kid's own enthusiasm and courage.

"Ma Thomas sure needs us now," said Anton.

"Hasn't she any relatives?" Kid Wolf asked.

"A son," muttered Wise in a tone of disgust. "Small good he is."

"Where is he?"

"Nobody knows," growled Lathum. "Somewhere in Mexico, I guess. He was
practically run out o' San Felipe. He's no _bueno_."

Kid Wolf learned that the son--Harry Thomas--had nearly broken his
parents' hearts. He had become wild years before, and was now nothing
more or less than a gambler, suspected of being a cheat and a
"short-card operator."

"He was a tinhorn, all right," said Wise, "and fer the life of me I
don't know how a woman like Ma Thomas could have such a worthless rake
fer a son. He was a queer-lookin' hombre--one brown eye and one black
eye."

"Ma loves him, though. Yuh can tell thet," put in Lathum.

"Oh, yes," pointed out Anton soberly. "Mothers always do. Great
things, these mothers."

He blew his nose violently on his red bandanna, and shortly afterward
went to bed. Soon all four were in the bunks, resting for the hard
work that awaited them on the morrow--manana--and many days after
manana.

Kid Wolf was up very early the next morning, and saddled Blizzard after
a hasty breakfast. He had much to do.

The three S Bar men went part way with him--to a point beyond the south
corral. It was here that Mrs. Thomas had found the body of her
murdered husband. There seemed to be no clew as to who had performed
the deliberate killing. Before The Kid left, however, he did a little
scouting around. In the sand behind a mesquite, fifty yards from the
spot where the body had been found, he discovered significant marks.

"Come ovah heah, yo' men," he sang out.

Distinct in the sand were the prints made by a pair of low-heeled,
square-toed boots.

"Well," Anton grunted.

"Know those mahks?"

All shook their heads. They had certainly been made by an unusual pair
of boots. In a country where high-heeled riding footgear was the
thing, such boots as these were seldom seen. All three admitted that
they had seen such boots somewhere, but, although they racked their
brains, they were unable to say just who had worn th