hich
he was accustomed to hear from the lips of his rider was a grunted
curse now and then. This whistling made the mustang uneasy.

Buck himself did not know what the music meant, but it brought into
his mind a thought of strong living and of glorious death. He had
heard it whistled several times by Dan Barry when the latter lay
delirious. It seemed to Buck, while he whistled this air, that the
spirit of Dan travelled beside him, nerving him to the work which lay
ahead, filling the messenger with his own wild strength.

As Buck dropped into a level tract of country he caught sight of a
rider coming from the opposite direction. As they drew closer the
other man swung his mount far to one side. Buck chuckled softly,
seeing that the other evidently desired to pass without being
recognized. The chuckle died when the stranger changed direction and
rode straight for Buck. The latter pulled his horse to a quick stop
and turned to face the on-comer. He made sure that his six-gun was
loose in the holster, for it was always well to be prepared for the
unusual in these chance meetings in the mountain-desert.

"Hey, Buck!" called the galloping horseman.

The hand of Daniels dropped away from his revolver, for he recognized
the voice of Hal Purvis, who swiftly ranged alongside.

"What's the dope?" asked Buck, producing his tobacco and the
inevitable brown papers.

"Jest lookin' the landscape over an' scoutin' around for news,"
answered Purvis.

"Pick up anything?"

"Yeh. Ran across some tenderfoot squatters jest out of Elkhead."

Buck grunted and lighted his cigarette.

"Which you've been sort of scarce around the outfit lately," went on
Purvis.

"I'm headin' for the bunch now," said Buck.

"D'you bring along that gun of mine I left at your house?"

"Didn't think of it."

"Let's drop back to your house an' get it. Then I'll ride up to the
camp with you."

Buck drew a long puff on his cigarette. He drew a quick mental picture
of Purvis entering the house, finding Dan, and then--

"Sure," he said, "you c'n go back to the house an' ask pa for the gun,
if you want to. I'll keep on for the hills."

"What's your hurry? It ain't more'n three miles back to your house.
You won't lose no time to speak of."

"It ain't time I'm afraid of losin'," said Buck significantly.

"Then what the devil is it? I can't afford to leave that gun."

"All right," said Buck, forcing a grin of derision, "so long, Hal."

Purvis frowne