f as he hesitated. "That's true
enough. We mustn't take any chances. But how--"

"Telephone. There's a line from the ranch-house to Las Vegas camp just
ahead." Buck pointed where, through the gathering dusk, the outlines of
the adobe shack showed dimly. "If I find there's no one with her, I'll
ride back."

"Go to it," nodded the sheriff. "If you don't show up I'll understand. At
a pinch I reckon we could find the trail ourselves from your directions."

As Stratton pulled off to the right, he waved his hand and swept onward
with the posse. Buck reached the door and swung out of the saddle,
flinging the reins over Pete's head. Then he found that Bud had followed
him.

"I'm goin' to wait an' hear what yuh find out," the youngster stated
resolutely. "I can catch up with 'em easy enough."

"All right."

Buck hastily entered the shack, which was almost pitch-dark. A faint
glint of metal came from the telephone, hanging beside one window; and as
he swiftly crossed the room and fumbled for the bell, there stirred within
him a sudden sense of apprehension that was almost dread.

CHAPTER XXIX

CREEPING SHADOWS

With her back against the veranda pillar, Mary Thorne watched the group of
mounted men canter down the slope, splash across the creek, and file
briskly through the gate leading to middle pasture. Perhaps it would be
more accurate to say that, for the most part, her glance followed one of
them, and when the erect, jaunty, broad-shouldered figure on the big roan
had disappeared, she gave a little sigh.

"He looks better--much better," she murmured.

Her eyes grew dreamy, and in her mind she saw again that little hidden
canyon with its overhanging ledge beneath which the man lay stretched out
on his blankets. Somehow, the anxiety and suspense, the heart-breaking
worry and weariness of that strange experience had faded utterly. There
remained only a very vivid recollection of the touch of her hand against
his damp forehead, the feeling of his crisp, dark hair as she pushed it
gently back, the look of those long, thick lashes lying so still against
his pallid face.

Not seldom she had wished those fleeting moments might have been
prolonged. Once or twice she was even a little jealous of Bud Jessup's
ministrations; just as, thinking of him now, she was jealous of his
constant nearness to Buck and the manner in which he seemed so intently to
share all the other's plans and projects, and even thoughts.

"W