a pretty good
cow-camp surgeon, examined his wound. A ball from an automatic revolver
had struck him in the breast, but on account of the thickness of the
clothing he wore, and the fact that he had on a heavy vest of caribou
hide, in the pocket of which he carried a small memorandum book, the
ball had penetrated only a short distance.

While he had lost a lot of blood, and the shock of the ball striking had
caused him to lose consciousness, he was not seriously hurt.

It did not take Bud long to extract the bullet and stanch the flow of
blood, and Follansbee opened his eyes and looked about wildly.

"Where is he?" he cried in terror.

"Whar's who?" asked Bud.

"The man what didn't have no face," cried the cow-puncher.

"Carl chased him avay alretty," said Carl, bending over his partner.

"All right, Carl. You saw him, too, did ye?"

"Sheur I sawed him, mit mine own eyes."

"Then it's all right," murmured Follansbee, sinking back on his bunk. "I
wuz afeared the boys wouldn't believe me if I told them what I saw."

When Follansbee sank into a deep sleep, due to his weakness from loss of
blood, the three boys sat before the fire while Carl told of his
encounter with the faceless man, and of the six shots which he had fired
at him and the ineffective bullets which had struck his body.

As the story was told a hush fell upon Bud and Kit. They were deeply
affected by the fact that this unknown and terrible menace was upon the
range which they were compelled to patrol, and which not even the balls
from a heavy weapon could kill.

"I would hardly have believed it if both of you hadn't seen the
creature," said Kit. "It sounds too much like a pipe dream."

It was morning before Bud and Carl left Kit's camp and rode to their
own. Follansbee was apparently all right, and exhibited no symptoms of
fever, for he had the iron constitution of a seasoned cow-puncher, who
almost invariably recovers as if by magic from a gunshot wound if the
missile does not penetrate a vital spot or splinter a bone.

Follansbee, when he awoke from his sleep, told Kit of his meeting with
the "man without a face," as he called the man who had given him his
wound.

"I wuz ridin' at a pretty good clip along the line to meet Carl," he
began, "when I see a feller standin' waitin' for me by the deep coulee,
about three miles south.

"At first I thought it wuz Carl, but soon I see that it wuz too big fer
the Dutchman.

"I slowed down a bit,