f his questioning, for his captives
refused to utter another word, and he himself fell silent, his mind
engaged with the intricacies of this problem. It might be that these
young dare-devils just happened to meet Kauffman on the road and decided
to hold him up. It was possible that they knew nothing of the warnings
which had been sent. But in that case, who pushed that final warning
under the door? Who let them know of trouble from above?

Dawn was creeping up the valley, and, calling young Kitsong from the
doze into which he had fallen, he said: "Now, Henry, I'm going to take
this bunch down to the sheriff, and you might as well make up your mind
to it first as last. You go out and saddle up while the senorita heats
up some more coffee, and we'll get ready and start."

Hanscom was by no means as confident as his voice sounded, and, as the
young fellow rose to go, only half expected him to show his face again.
"Well, let him slip," he said to himself. "I'll be safer without him."

Busby spoke up from the floor. "You stay with the game, Hank, and you
ride your own horse."

"You bet I'll ride my own horse," Kitsong violently retorted, from the
doorway.

The girl, who understood the significance of this controversy,
interposed. "I'll ride the sorrel. He's my horse, anyway."

Hanscom mockingly chimed in. "That's mighty fine and self-sacrificing,
but it won't do. The rider who fired that shot was a man. But I'll leave
it to Henry. Bring around the horses, and remember, if you slip out with
that bay horse I'll _know_ you rode the sorrel yesterday."

The situation had become too complicated for the girl, who fell silent,
while Busby cursed the ranger in fierce, set terms. "What right have you
got to arrest us, anyhow?"

"All the right I need. That shooting began inside the forest boundary,
and it's my duty to see that you are placed in the hands of the law."
Here his voice took on a note of grim determination. "And I want you to
understand there will be no funny business on the way down."

"How can I ride, all tied up like this?" demanded the ruffian.

"Oh, I'm going to untie you, and you are going to come along
quietly--either as live stock or freight--you can take your choice."

Busby, subdued by several hours on the floor, was disposed to do as he
was told, and Hanscom unbound his legs and permitted him to rise.

As young Kitsong brought the horses around in front of the cabin,
Hanscom was not disappointed in f