thing," declared Kern stoutly, and he glared at the man from
the southland.

"Because if it's anything worse," said Arizona innocently, "we'd ought
to know it. The honor of Woodville is at stake."

"Oh, it's bad enough this way," grumbled Joe Stockton, and the sheriff,
hastily restoring his glove, grunted assent.

"Now, boys, let's hear some plans."

"First thing," said Red Chalmers, rising, "is for each of us to pick
out the best hoss in his string, and then we'll all ride over to the
place where they left and pick up the trail."

"Not a bad idea," approved Kern.

There was a general rising.

"Sit down," said Arizona, who alone had not budged in his chair.

Without obeying, they turned to him.

"Was that the Morris trail, Kern?" asked Arizona.

"Sure."

"Well, you ain't got a chance of picking up the trail of two hosses out
of two hundred."

In silence they received the truth of this assertion. Then Joe Stockton
spoke. He was not exactly a troublemaker, but he took advantage of
every disturbance that came his way and improved it to the last
scruple.

"Sinclair comes from Colma, according to Bill, and Colma is north. Ride
north, Kern, and the north trail will keep us tolerable close to
Sinclair. We can tend to Gaspar later on--unless he's a pile more
dangerous'n he looks."

"Yes, Sinclair is the main one," said the sheriff. "He's more'n a
hundred Gaspars. Boys, the north trail looks good to me. We can pick up
Gaspar later on, as Joe Stockton says. Straight for Colma, that's where
we'll strike."

"Hold on," cut in Arizona.

Patently they regarded him with disfavor. There was something blandly
superior in Arizona's demeanor. He had a way of putting forth his
opinions as though it were not the slightest effort for him to
penetrate truths which were securely veiled from the eyes of ordinary
men.

Now he looked calmly, almost contemptuously upon the sheriff and the
rest of the posse.

"Gents, has any of you ever seen this Jig you talk about ride a hoss?"

"Me, of course," said the sheriff.

"Anything about him strike you when he was in a saddle?"

"Sure! Got a funny arm motion."

"Like he was fanning his ribs with his elbows to keep cool?" went on
Arizona, grinning.

The sheriff chuckled.

"Would you pick him for a good hand on a long trail?"

"Never in a million years," said the sheriff. "Is he?"

Kern seemed to admit his inferiority by asking this question. He bit
his lip and was about