ooking at Swan questioningly.

"Is that dog of yours any good at trailing?" he asked abruptly. "I've
got a theory that somebody was in that wagon with Frank, and drove on a
ways before he jumped out. I believe if you'd put that dog on the
trail----"

"If I put that dog on the trail he stays on the trail all day, maybe,"
Swan averred with some pride. "By golly, he follows a coyote till he
drops."

"Well, it's a coyote we're after now," said Lone. "A sheep-killer that
has made his last killin'. Right here's where I rode up and caught the
team, last night. We better take a look along here for tracks."

Swan stared at him curiously, but he did not speak, and the two went on
more slowly, their glances roving here and there along the trail edge,
looking for footprints. Once the dog Jack swung off the trail into the
brush, and Swan followed him while Lone stopped and awaited the result.
Swan came back presently, with Jack sulking at his heels.

"Yack, he take up the trail of a coyote," Swan explained, "but it's got
the four legs, and Yack, he don't understand me when I don't follow.
He thinks I'm crazy this morning."

"I reckon the team came on toward home after the fellow jumped out,"
Lone observed. "He'd plan that way, seems to me. I know I would."

"I guess that's right. I don't have experience in killing somebody,"
Swan returned blandly, and Lone was too preoccupied to wonder at the
unaccustomed sarcasm.

A little farther along Swan swooped down upon a blue dotted
handkerchief of the kind which men find so useful where laundries are
but a name. Again Lone stopped and bent to examine it as Swan spread
it out in his hands. A few tiny grains of sandstone rattled out, and
in the centre was a small blood spot. Swan looked up straight into
Lone's dark, brooding eyes.

"By golly, Lone, you would do that, too, if you kill somebody," he
began in a new tone,--the tone which Lorraine had heard indistinctly in
the bunkhouse when Swan was talking to the doctor. "Do you think I'm a
damn fool, just because I'm a Swede? You are smart--you think out
every little thing. But you make a big mistake if you don't think some
one else may be using his brain, too. This handkerchief I have seen
you pull from your pocket too many times. And it had a rock in it last
night, and the blood shows that it was used to hit Frank behind the
ear. You think it all out--but maybe I've been thinking too. Now
you're under arrest. J