good! I could see it in his eye; an' he wasn't
drunk, not by a darn sight. Go out an' see for yoreself if they ain't
gone!" he snapped in reply to Old John's look. "Go on out, while I throw
some cold grub on the table--won't have no time this morning to do no
cooking. He's got five hours' start on us, an' it'll take some right
smart riding to get him before dark; but we'll do it, an' hang him,
too!"

"What's all this here rumpus?" demanded a sleepy voice from upstairs.
"Who's hanged?" and Charley entered the room, very much interested. His
interest increased remarkably when the calamity was made known and he
lost no time in joining Old John in the corral to verify the news.

Old John waved his hands over the scene and carefully explained what
he had read in the tracks, to his companion's great irritation, for
Charley's keen eyes and good training had already told him all there
was to learn; and his reading did not exactly agree with that of his
companion.

"Charley, he's gone and took our cayuses; an' that's the very way he
came--'round the corner of the hotel. He got all tangled up an' fell
over there, an' here he bumped inter the palisade, an' dropped his
saddle. When he opened the bars he took my roan gelding because it was
the best an' fastest, an' then he let out the others to mix us up on
the tracks. See how he went? Had to hop four times on one foot afore he
could get inter the saddle. An' that proves he was sober, for no drunk
could hop four times like that without falling down an' being drug to
death. An' he left his own critter behind because he knowed it wasn't no
good. It's all as plain as the nose on your face, Charley," and Old John
proudly rubbed his ear. "Hee, hee, hee! You can't fool Old John, even if
he is getting old. No, sir, b' gum."

Charley had just returned from inside the corral, where he had looked
at the brand on the far side of the one horse left, and he waited
impatiently for his companion to cease talking. He took quick advantage
of the first pause Old John made and spoke crisply.

"I don't care what corner he came 'round, or what he bumped inter; an'
any fool can see that. An' if he left that cayuse behind because he
thought it wasn't no good, he _was_ drunk. That's a Bar-20 cayuse, an'
no hoss-thief ever worked for that ranch. He left it behind because
he stole it; that's why. An' he didn't let them others out because he
wanted to mix us up, neither. How'd he know if we couldn't tel