ed. "They're all
gentle. Al's mounted, remember. He's maybe gone to the Sawtooth, and
that's farther than you can walk."

"I can walk all day and all night, when I need to go like that. I can
take short cuts that a horse can't take. I think I shall go on my own
legs."

"Well, I'm going down to the house first. I know them two men riding
down to the gate. I want to see what the boss and Hawkins have got to
say about this last 'accident.' Better come on down, Swan. You might
pick up something. They're heading for the ranch, all right. Going to
make a play at being neighbourly, I reckon."

"You bet I want to see Warfield," Swan assented rather eagerly and
called Jack, who had nosed around the spot where Al had waited so long
and was now trotting along the ridge on the next lap of Al's journey.

They reached the gate in time to meet Warfield and Hawkins face to
face. Hawkins gave Lone a quick, questioning look and nodded
carelessly to Swan. Warfield, having a delicate errand to perform and
knowing how much depended upon first impressions, pulled up eagerly
when he recognised Lone.

"Has the girl arrived safely, Lone?" he asked anxiously.

"What girl?" Lone looked at him non-committally.

"Miss--ah--Hunter. Have you been away all the forenoon? The girl came
to the ranch in such a condition that I was afraid she might do herself
or some one else an injury. Has she been unbalanced for long?"

"If you mean Lorraine Hunter, she was all right last time I saw her,
and that was last night." Lone's eyes narrowed a little as he watched
the two. "You say she went to the Sawtooth?"

"She came pelting over there crazier than when you brought her in,"
Hawkins broke in gruffly. "She ain't safe going around alone like
that."

Senator Warfield glanced at him impatiently. "Is there any truth in
her declaring that Frank Johnson is dead? She seemed to have had a
shock of some kind. She was raving crazy, and in her rambling talk she
said something about Frank Johnson having died last night."

Lone glanced back as he led the way through the gate which Swan was
holding open. "He didn't die--he got killed last night," he corrected.

"Killed! And how did that happen? It was impossible to get two
coherent sentences out of the girl." Senator Warfield rode through
just behind Lone and reined close, lowering his voice. "No use in
letting this get out," he said confidentially. "It may be that the
girl's dementi