one of his lonely
rides so that he could prove no alibi, perhaps even to rob him of the
four thousand five hundred dollars before he could come with it to
Hill's Corners. Now he made up his mind that he was not going to give
Pollard this one last chance he wanted. For, he felt convinced, if he
did succeed in getting through with the money without a bullet in the
back, and if he actually brought it to Pollard the latter would tell him
that he had changed his mind, and so the rash act would have been done
uselessly. Having no way of holding Pollard to his bargain he had little
wish to make the long ride to Dry Town and back.

Thornton for several days had planned to ride out to the borders of his
range and see his cowboys, giving them full instructions for work to be
done during the week which followed in case he should not be able to
give more time to them. Now, with a great deal to think about, he was
not averse to a solitary day in the saddle.

Of late he had noted how the cinch of his working saddle was weakening;
some of the strands had parted even. He should mend it now, but he had
no time to lose, and he did have another saddle, which he did not use
twice during the year and which for months now he had not even seen. He
had put it out of the way, high up in the loft. He went down to the barn
meaning to get it and make the exchange. If he was going to have some
hard riding during the coming days it was as well if he used this
saddle, the best he had ever seen. Rather too ornate with its profuse
silver chasings and carved leather for every day's use, a heavy Mexican
affair which he had won in a bronco "busting" competition down in Texas
four years ago.

He came up into the loft, half filled with hay, and went to the far end
where the saddle had hung upon its peg. It was gone. He stood staring at
the peg in surprise. Surely he had left it here, surely he had not
removed it. He tried to think when he had seen it last. And he
remembered. It had been two or three months ago, and he knew that he had
left it here, he even remembered the trouble he had had in drawing it up
after him through the small trap door. Now where was it?

His first suspicion was that one of his men had been using it. But he
knew that that was impossible. He would have seen it, and moreover one
man does not take another man's saddle without saying by your leave.

"The thing is worth three hundred dollars, easy," he muttered. "It would
be funny..