here's where that broad-tire wagon was
tied."

"The road's full of all sorts of tracks," said Sim, looking down, rifle
in hand, from his seat. He carried the puppy again in his arms, and
the hens still were expostulating in the bottom of the wagon. "Is them
car tracks?"

"A car could be a hundred and fifty miles away by now," said Wid.

They passed on to Wid Gardner's gate. It was wide open. There were
wheel tracks there, also, of some sort.

The ruin of this homestead also was complete. The last stack of hay,
the barn, house, all, were burned to the ground.

"Well, that's all I want here," said Wid, sighing. "We'll stop at your
place for a spell, Sim--that's the best thing we can do."

"But look here!" he went on, his eyes running along the ground. "Been
a car in here--this wasn't a wagon--it was a car! There must of been
more'n one of 'em."

"Uh huh," said Sim, climbing down stiffly from the wagon seat now and
joining him in the task of puzzling out the trail. They followed it to
a place where some ashes had been trodden in the yard. Here the wheels
of the car had left their clearest record.

"Not a big one," said Wid. "Ragged tire on the nigh hind wheel. See
this?"

They ran the trail on out to the gate, picking it up here and there,
catching it plain in the loose sand which covered the gravel road bed.

"Whoever done the work at my place," said Sim, "was drunk. Look how he
busted down my mail box."

"Look how this car was running here," assented Wid. "You set here by
the gate, Sim, and hold the team. I want to run up the road a piece to
where the timber trail turns up the canyon."

"Sure, Wid," said Sim. "I can't walk good."

It was half an hour or more before his friend had returned from his
hasty scout further along the road, and by that time it was dark.

"That's where they went, Sim," said Wid Gardner. "I seen the track of
that busted tire plain in the half-dried mud, little ways up the trail.
Whoever it was done this, has went right up there. When we get a few
of the fellers together we'll start. To-morrow morning, early."

"To-morrow!" said Sim. "Why, Wid----"

Wid Gardner laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's the best we
can do, Sim," said he.

Without more speech they drove once more along Sim Gage's lane. As
they approached the entrance, Sim turned. "Hold up a minute, Wid,"
said he, "while I look over here where the wagon was tied."

He limped across the r