pulled him outa th' manger an' beat him up an'--"

But Slavin had heard enough. With a most ungallant ejaculation he swung
on his heel and started towards the stable, beckoning hastily to Yorke
and Redmond to follow.

"Yu hear that?" he burst out on them, with lowered, savage tones. "I
knew ut--I felt ut at th' toime--that shtinkin' rapparee av a hobo was
lyin'--whin he said he did not renumber a harse bein' brought back. We
must go get um--right-away!" His grim face wore a terribly ruthless
expression just then. "My God!" he groaned out from between clenched
teeth, "but I will put th' third degree tu um, an' make um come across
this toime! Saddle up, bhoys! while I go an' hitch up T an' B.
Damnation! I wish Gully's place was on the phone!"

Some quarter of an hour later they were proceeding rapidly towards
Gully's ranch which lay some fifteen miles west of Cow Run, on the lower
or river trail. A cold wind had sprung up and the weather had turned
cloudy and dull, as if presaging snow, two iridescent "sun-dogs"
indicating a forthcoming drop in the temperature.

Yorke and Redmond, riding in the cutter's wake, carried on a desultory.
Jerky conversation anent the many baffling aspects of the case in hand.
Gully's name came up. His strange personality was discussed by them from
every angle; impartially by Yorke--frankly antagonistically by Redmond.

"Yes! he is a rum beggar, in a way," admitted Yorke, "not a bad sort of
duck, though, when you get to know him--when he's not in one of his
rotten, brooding fits. He sure gets 'Charley-on-his-back' sometimes.
Used to hit the booze pretty hard one time, they say. Tried the
'gold-cure'--then broke out again"--he lowered his voice at the huge,
bear-like back of the sergeant--"all same him. I don't know--somehow--it
always seems to leave em' cranky an' queer--that. Neither of 'em married
either--'baching it,' living alone, year after year, and all that, too."

"Better for you--if you took the cure, too!" George flung at him
grinning rudely. He neck-reined Fox sharply and dodged a playful punch
from his comrade. "Yorkey, old cock, I'm goin' to break you from 'hard
stuff' to beer--if I have to pitch into you every day."

"You're an insultin', bullyin' young beggar," remarked Yorke ruefully.
"I'll have to 'take shteps,' as Burke says, and discipline you a bit,
young fellow-me-lad! I don't wonder the old man pulled you in from
Gleichen. Come to think of it, why,