d of a long, quiet pondering over his problems. He did not feel sure
of anything except the fact that the Quirt was like a drowning man
struggling vainly against the whirlpool that is sucking him slowly
under.

One thing he knew, and that was his determination to stay with these two
of the Sawtooth until he had some definite information; until he saw
Lorraine or knew that she was safe from them. Like a weight pressing
harder and harder until one is crushed beneath it, their talk of
Lorraine's insanity forced fear into his soul. They could do just what
they had talked of doing. He himself had placed that weapon in their
hands when he took her to the Sawtooth delirious and told of wilder
words and actions. Hawkins and his wife would swear away her sanity if
they were told to do it, and there were witnesses in plenty who had
heard him call her crazy that first morning.

They could do it; they could have her committed to an asylum, or at
least to a sanitarium. He did not underestimate the influence of Senator
Warfield. And what could the Quirt do to prevent the outrage? Frank
Johnson was dead; Brit was out of the fight for the time being; Jim and
Sorry were the doggedly faithful sort who must have a leader before they
can be counted upon to do much.

Swan,--Lone lifted his head and glanced toward the ridge when he thought
of Swan. There, indeed, he might hope for help. But Swan was out here,
away from reinforcements. He was trailing Al Woodruff, and when he found
him,--that might be the end of Swan. If not, Warfield could hurry
Lorraine away before Swan could act in the matter. A whimsical thought
of Swan's telepathic miracle crossed his mind and was dismissed as an
unseemly bit of foolery in a matter so grave as Lorraine's safety. And
yet--the doctor _had_ received a message that he was wanted at the
Quirt, and he had arrived before his patient. There was no getting
around that, however impossible it might be. No one could have foreseen
Brit's accident; no one save the man who had prepared it for him, and he
would be the last person to call for help.

"We followed the girl's horse-tracks almost to Thurman's place and lost
the trail there." Warfield turned in the saddle to look at Lone riding
behind him. "We made no particular effort to trace her from there,
because we were sure she would come on home. I'm going back that far,
and we'll pick up the trail, unless we find her at the ranch. She may
have hidden herself away