o hell!
Either a pull or our brave sheriff is some ascairt of him! He's a _fine_
sheriff, _he_ is, th' big baby!"

"Pleasant afternoon, Curley," came from behind the group, accompanied by a
soft laugh. The voice was very pleasant and low. Curley stiffened and
turned in his saddle like a flash. The sheriff was smiling, but there was
a glint in his fighting eyes that gave grave warning. The sheriff smiled,
but some men smile when most dangerous, and as an assurance of mastery
and coolness.

"Looking for strays, or is it mavericks?" he casually asked, a question
which left no doubt as to what the smile indicated, for it was a
challenge. Maverick hunting was at that time akin to rustling, and it was
occurring on the range despite the sheriff's best efforts to stop it.

Curley flushed and mumbled something about a missing herd. He had suddenly
remembered the scene at the corral, and it had a most subduing effect on
him. The sheriff regarded him closely and then noted the bullet holes in
the coach. The door of the vehicle was closed, the curtains down, and no
sound came from within it. The baggage flap had settled askew over the
tell-tale trunks and hid them from sight on that side.

"Oh, it's a missing herd this time, is it?" he inquired coolly. "Well,
I reckon you won't find it out here. They don't wander over this layout
while the Limping Water is running."

"Well, we'll take a look down south aways; it won't do no harm now that
we've got this far," replied Larry. "Come on, boys," he cried. "We've
wasted too much time with th' engineer."

"Wait!" commanded the sheriff shortly. "Your foreman made me certain
promises, and I reckon that you are out against orders. I wouldn't be
surprised if Sneed wants you right now."

Larry laughed uneasily. "Oh, I reckon he ain't losin' no sleep about us.
We won't hurt nobody" --whereat Bill grinned. "Come on, fellows."

"Well, I hope you get what you're looking for," replied the sheriff,
whereat Bill snickered outright and winked at Charley, who sat alert
and scowling behind the sheriff, rather hoping for a fight.

Larry flashed the driver a malicious look and, wheeling, cantered south,
followed by his companions. They rode straight for the point at which The
Orphan had disappeared, Bill waving his arms and crying: "Sic 'em." The
chase was on in earnest.

The stage door suddenly flew open with a bang and interrupted the
explanations which Bill was about to offer, and in a flash