et in the cold he heard the jingling of bells and the
rumbling of heavy wagons; and presently the freight outfit of Jerkline
Jo rolled past, the girl and her skinners, bundled to the ears and
slapping their hands against their ribs for warmth.

Drummond gave them a contemptuous glance for their honest and difficult
endeavor, then took note that his old enemy, the man from Wild-cat
Hill, was missing. He wondered about this, but gave it little thought
until it dawned upon him that Jo's beautiful black saddle mare, which
usually followed behind the wagon train with doglike loyalty, was
absent too. He stopped short then and found that he was thinking of
the old prospector, whom he had seen for the second time the day before.

He was worried. Could it be possible that Jo and Hiram had got wind of
the mystery? For all he knew, they might have met the old man
somewhere on the desert and learned his secret. It was such a usual
thing to see Hiram behind his ten black freighters on every trip in or
out that the conspirator could not down suspicion.

All that day he worried over it, but did not mention it to Lucy.
Coming from another night of poker the following morning, having seen
nothing of Hiram Hooker in the meantime, he decided to look into the
matter as best he could.

He would get his car and drive up the line a way, toward the camp where
he had seen Filer two days before. He could readily learn at
intervening camps whether or not Hiram had ridden that way on Jo's
black mare.

He had no appetite for breakfast, so he got out his touring car and
drove away toward the north while Ragtown slept.

Men were at work in the third camp that he reached, and here a little
inquiry brought forth the information that Hooker had gone the way
Drummond had feared. Now he drove fast along the road that followed
the right of way, passing rapidly through camp after camp, until he was
far from Ragtown.

It was not yet eight o'clock when, far ahead, he saw a black horse
galloping toward him. He had just run the car out upon the smooth,
dark surface of one of the desert's famous dry lakes, where almost
nothing grew. The ground was level and hard as a dance floor, so he
turned from the road and drove at right angles to it across the crusted
soil. He drove fast, and by the time the rider reached the point in
the road where Drummond first had seen him Drummond was so far away
that Hiram could not recognize him or his car.

Drumm