y fears to
go on."

"But now you know. We managed to make a joke of last night--but what
that push had in mind was plain murder. I would dearly like," said
John Wesley, "to visit Las Uvas--some dark night--in a Zeppelin."

* * * * *

At the corral gate the Major met them, with a face so troubled that
Stella cried out in alarm:

"Father! What is it? Chris?"

"Stella--be brave! Dick Marr was killed at midnight--and they're
swearing it off on Chris."

"But John Wesley was with him."

"That's just it. Applegate and Creagan tell it that they saw Chris
leaving town at eleven o'clock, that he said he was coming up here,
and that he made a war-talk about Marr. But not a word about Pringle
or the fight at the hotel. Joe Espalin doesn't appear--no claim that
he saw Foy at all."

"That looks ugly," observed Pringle.

"Ugly! Your testimony is to be thrown out as a lie made of whole
cloth. Espalin and the barkeeper don't appear. They're afraid the
Mexican will get tangled up, and Max will swear he didn't see Chris at
all. It's cut and dried. You are to be canceled. Marr was found this
morning at the first crossroad above town. His watch was stopped at
ten minutes to twelve--mashed, it seemed, where it hit on a stone when
he fell. If they had told about the mix-up with you and Chris last
night, I might have thought they really believed Chris killed Marr--or
suspected it. As it stands, we know the whole thing is a black, rotten
conspiracy."

"But where's Chris?" demanded Stella, trembling.

"We have none of us seen Chris--you want to remember that. You won't
have to lie, Stella--you didn't see him. Pringle, I bank on you."

"Sure! I can lie and stick to it, though I'm sadly out of practice,"
said Pringle. "But hadn't we better fix up the same history to tell?
And where's your man Hargis that stays here? Will he do?"

"Unsaddle and I'll tell you. We've only got a few minutes. I saw the
dust of them coming down from the north as I drove in this bunch
of saddle horses. Some of them went up by train to Upham, you know.
Hargis has gone to the round-up, and I'm just as well pleased. I'm not
sure he can be trusted. We are to know not the first word of what has
happened. We haven't seen Chris and haven't heard of the murder. Come
in--we'll start dinner and be taken by surprise. Pringle, throw your
gun over on the bunk. Stella, get that look off your face. After you
hear the news you can look an