t's one of them accidents that you've got to figure out for
yourself."

"Oh, do something!" Lorraine cried distractedly. "Never mind now how
it happened, or whether he was drunk or not--bring him to his senses
first, and let him explain. If there's whisky, wouldn't that help if
he swallowed some now? And there's medicine for dad's bruises in the
house. I'll get it. And Swan! Won't you _please_ talk to your mother
and tell her we need the doctor?"

Swan drew back. "I can't," he said shortly. "Better you send to Echo
for telegraph. And if you have medicine, it should be on his head
quick."

Lone was standing with his fingers pressed on Frank's wrist. He looked
up, hesitated, drew out his knife and opened the small blade. He moved
so that his back was to Lorraine, and still holding the wrist he made a
small, clean cut in the flesh. The three others stooped, stared with
tightened lips at the bloodless incision, straightened and looked at
one another dumbly.

"I'd like to lie to you," Lone told Lorraine, speaking over his
shoulder. "But I won't. You're too game and too square. Go and stay
with your dad, but don't let him know--get him to sleep. We don't need
that medicine, nor a doctor either. Frank's dead. I reckon he was
dead when he hit the ground."

CHAPTER XV

SWAN TRAILS A COYOTE

At daybreak Swan was striding toward the place where Frank Johnson had
been found. Lone, his face moody, his eyes clouded with thought, rode
beside him, while Jack trotted loose-jointedly at Swan's heels. Swan
had his rifle, and Lone's six-shooter showed now and then under his
coat when the wind flipped back a corner. Neither had spoken since
they left the ranch, where Jim was wandering dismally here and there,
trying to do the chores when his heart was heavy with a sense of
personal loss and grim foreboding. None save Brit had slept during the
night--and Brit had slept only because Lorraine had prudently given him
a full dose of the sedative left by the doctor for that very purpose.
Sorry had gone to Echo to send a telegram to the coroner, and he was
likely to return now at any time. Wherefore Swan and Lone were going
to look over the ground before others had trampled out what evidence
there might be in the shape of footprints.

They reached the spot where the team had stopped of its own accord in
crossing a little, green meadow, and had gone to feeding. Lone pulled
up and half turned in the saddle, l