ad nothing to do with those
stolen horses. We found them, yes, but they were already in the canyon.
And there were two men guardin' them--up on the ridge. They must have
cleared out when your patrol rode in, but they were there the night
before."

"You saw them?"

"No, our scout did."

"What scout--that Indian who got away with your partner? I heard rumors
that Kitchell had links with bronco Apaches, but I didn't believe any
white man could stoop so low."

"That Indian"--Drew felt as if he were walking a very narrow mountain ledge
in the dark, with a drop straight down to the middle of the world on one
side--"was a Pima, one of the Stronghold scouts."

"So--Hunt Rennie _did_ know about those horses!" Bayliss pounced.

"He did not! He sent us to the mustanger camp with a message, and the Pima
rode scout for us. It's a regular order on the Range--take one of the Pimas
if you are goin' any distance from where you can fort up. You can find out
that's true easily enough." Drew was striving to keep a reasonable tone,
to find an answer which _must_ pierce through Bayliss' rancor. After all,
Bayliss could not have held his present rank and station so long and been
all hot-headed plunger.

"What was this so-important message Rennie had to have delivered to a camp
of Mex mustangers?" Bayliss bored in. Even in the lantern's restricted
light Drew could see the flush darkening the other's face.

"They are havin' trouble with a wild stud--a killer. Mr. Rennie wants him
killed, quick. He sent the two of us out to help--thought with more hands
it could be done."

"Kirby!" Bayliss' fists were on his hips, his head pushed forward from his
shoulders until his sun-peeled face was only inches away from the bars
between them. "Do I look like a stupid man, a man to be fed stories? You
ride into town on a blooded stud, with a mare of like breeding, and a belt
loaded down with gold. You give out that you served with Forrest--Forrest,
a looting guerrilla and a murdering butcher! You've heard of Fort Pillow,
Kirby? That's what decent men remember when anyone says 'Forrest' in their
hearing! Only you can't even prove you were one of that gang of raiders,
either, can you? Now I'll tell you just who and what you are.

"You're one of Kitchell's scavengers, come into town with gold for
supplies and a chance to contact the people you want to meet. I've known
for a long time that Topham, Rennie, and probably a dozen other so-called
citizens