e
steer, and Ted was freed of the terrible weight.

He was scarcely breathing, for the wind had been completely knocked out
of him. Ben laid him flat on his back, and, straddling him, with his
knees on the ground, began to work Ted's arms with an upward, backward,
and outward motion, as if he was restoring the breath to a half-drowned
person. Soon a flush came into Ted's face, and he gave a gasp, and his
breath came in short, painful inhalations. As Ben continued the
exercise, his breathing became regular, and he opened his eyes with
surprise, to see so many of his friends about him, and particularly big
Ben straddling him and apparently holding him down. He thought at first
that Ben was responsible for his prostrate condition, or that he had
struck him.

"What are you doing?" Ted said angrily. "Let me up, dog-gone you."

But when he saw the dead steer on the ground beside him he remembered
what had happened, and sat up and laughed with the others.

It did not take him long to recover after this.

"I'm going to try to find out what caused this beast to go mad," said
Ted. "There's certainly something wrong about it."

"How are you going to find that out?" asked Ben.

"I don't know yet, but I will," Ted answered. "Come on, two or three of
you fellows. The rest of you ride back to the camp. You may be needed
there. We can't guard things too closely these days."

The party separated, and Ted, with Bud, Ben, and Kit, rode away, but
they had gone only a little ways when they heard a noise behind them. It
was Stella galloping toward them.

"I'm going, too," she said, and go she did.

Riding about half a mile west they came to a deep coulee, into which
they descended and followed its course for a short distance, when
suddenly Ted held up his hand as a signal to halt.

"I smell burning paper," he said, and, getting down from his saddle,
went forward alone on foot, as silently as an Indian.

Suddenly he bent forward, examining something on the ground, and
motioned the others forward. They rode to his side, and saw him looking
at a small, dead camp fire.

"Some one camped here last night," he said, thrusting his hand into the
warm ashes. "And whoever it was burned papers in it before he went away
this morning; the smell of them is still in the air." But no nose in the
party was keen-scented enough to detect it except Ted's.

Ted was still pawing among the ashes, when a change in expression swept
over his face, and