nd. Jordan and his men leaped out as the car
stopped, Mormon following more slowly.

"Afternoon, hombres all," said Sam. "Joy-ridin'?"

Jordan wasted no more explanations.

"You take down this fence," he fairly shouted.

"What fo'?"

"Ask yore partner."

"Sheriff claims we're cumberin' the landscape with our li'l' corral,
Sam," said Mormon. "He's got a paper that gives him right of way, he
says. Seen anything of Molly Casey?"

"Not for quite a spell. Go easy with them wires, Sheriff. Price of
wire's riz considerable."

The second barrier down and the car through, Jordan ordered Sam to get
in the car.

"Jump, or I'll put the cuffs on you," he said.

"Not this trip," replied Sam coolly. "No sense in my climbin' in there.
Me an' Mormon's through with our li'l' job. We'll go back in the
buckboard. It's round the bend. I was jest goin' to hitch up."

Jordan glared unbelievingly, yet Sam's words carried conviction.

"Yo're sure goin' to have trouble turnin' yore car right here," Sam went
on imperturbably. "Kind of mean to back down, too. It's worse higher up.
Matter of fac' the gap peters out jest round the turn. This is Bolsa
Boquete. Bolsa means purse, Sheriff, one of them knitted purse nets.
Good name for it. Look for yo'self, if you don't believe me."

Jordan and Plimsoll strode on up the pitch. Mormon followed, Sam stayed
with the two deputies. Around the bend stood the buckboard with the
buckskins in a patch of shadow under a scoop in the ending wall that
turned the so-called pass to a box canyon.

"I told you the gel warn't erlong," said Mormon. "She and Sandy was with
us fo' a spell. But they're goin' visitin' an' they shifted to saddle
way back, out there by the spring beside the lava strip."

Mormon's bland smile masked a sterner intent than showed in his eyes.
Jordan, furious at being outwitted, dared not provoke open combat. He
had nothing on which to make arrest of the two Three Star partners and
he was far from sure of his ability to do so under any circumstances.
Mormon hitched up the buckskins, but followed the sheriff and the
scowling, silent Plimsoll back to the car.

"See that notch, way over to the no'th?" said Mormon, bent on exploiting
the situation to the full. "I reckon Sandy and the gel's shackin'
through there about now. Hawss trail only. 'Fraid you won't catch him,
Sheriff. They aim to ketch the seven o'clock train at Caroca. It's the
on'y pass over the mesa. If Sandy had knowed