`His daughter don't favor him much,' Green said reflectively.
`Much?' cried Larry indignantly. `She ain't a mite like him. How could she be? Old Simon never fell out of a picture-book.' Green shook with silent mirth. `Yu certainly are easy,' he chuckled. `The little feller with the bow an' arrows has got yu thrown an' tied shore enough.'
`An' another feller with a bow an' arrow'll lay yu out cold an' stiff if yu ain't careful,' retorted the boy, whose red face showed that the blow had gone home. `Joking on one side, Green, I wouldn't care to be in yore shoes.'
`Takes a man to fill 'em,' bantered the other.
`A good part o' one, anyway,' Larry flashed back. Whereupon they agreed to call it quits and sought their beds, entering the bunkhouse separately.
Lying in his bunk, Green turned over the events of the day in an endeavor to find a key to the mystery which overhung the ranch. He was convinced that the foreman was playing a deep game, but he had no proof, and he recognized that obtaining it would be no picnic. Not that this troubled him; he had been in tight places before--in fact, his life for years had been, as he humorously phrased it, `one damn squeeze after another.'
`If old Nugget is in this, he'll want to report my visit,' he ruminated. `I'll be around there early to-morrow,' and having thus settled the next step to be taken, he turned over and promptly fell asleep.
At daybreak he rose and dressed without awaking any of the others. He aroused the cook, who slept in his own quarters, and representing that he had an urgent job for the ranch-owner, managed to secure a meal and provision for the day, though not without protest.
`If all yu dudes is goin' to eat separate, I quit,' growled the cook. `What's the matter with this blamed ranch, anyway? There's Rattler comes pesterin' round for his breakfast 'alf an 'our ago, an' now yu. Must be afeared yu ain't earnin' yore pay, some o' yu.'
This was news for Green; the foreman had got ahead of him. A query to the cook as to Rattler's destination elicited a disgusted reply.
'Ow in 'ell do I know? Does he strike yu as a feller who advertises? Yu ain't told me nothin' yerself.'
`I don't advertise either,' Green laughed, and left the irate provision purveyor muttering dark and bloody threats against the next unlucky wight who should come in search of an early meal.
Surmising that the foreman might be on the same errand as himself, Green proceeded on his way cautiously, taking cover when it offered, and avoiding the skyline whenever it was possible to do so. He discovered no sign of Blaynes, however, until he reached the hut, and there, from the thick brush, he saw a horse with the reins thrown waiting patiently outside the door. Leaving his own mount, he crept close enough to make out the Y Z brand on the animal's rump.
Making a detour, he found a fallen tree which bridged the stream at a narrow point, and crossed. There were no windows at the back of the cabin, and stepping with the craft of an Indian, Green was soon crouched by the logs which formed the rear wall. Inside, he could hear voices, the foreman's and the old miner's.
`Now yu understan', Nugget,' Blaynes was saying. `He ain't wanted, an' if yu catch him nosin' round here, bump him off. There won't be no inquiries, an' if there is, it'll be put down to Injuns, if yo're careful.'
The other man laughed shortly, and guessing that the visitor was about to leave, Green retreated to the bushes. In a few moments Rattler appeared, mounted, and rode off in the direction of the ranch. Green waited patiently, and at the end of about half an hour, Nugget came out carrying a saddle and lariat. In a little clearing not far from the cabin was a rough corral. Nugget roped the sole occupant, a savage-looking cowpony, adjusted the saddle, and took a dim trail which appeared to lead to the mountains.
`Bet m'self two dollars he's headed for the Double X,' Green soliloquized. `I'll have to see if I win.'
Keeping well in the background, he followed the tracks of the man in front. The trail, which was obviously very little used, wound in and out among the trees and undergrowth, which here and there almost obstructed it. Nugget was evidently taking his time over the trip, and once the pursuer was near enough to get a whiff of rank tobacco. He at once slowed down. He had no fear of losing his man, for the ground was soft, and the hoof-marks of the pony showed clearly. For over an hour he jogged steadily on, and then found himself on the rim of a deep valley, treeless and covered with lush grass. Halfway down the long slope he could see his quarry trotting leisurely towards the other side. He waited until Nugget vanished over the far skyline, and then followed at a fast lope.
As he expected, the miner had disappeared, but his trail led down a long incline covered with pine and clumps of undergrowth. Green pressed on, anxious to make up the time he had been forced to waste at the valley. Rounding a tree-covered pinnacle of rock, he suddenly pulled his horse back on its haunches. In front of him, running at right angles, lay a broad open trail, scored with innumerable footprints of horse and cattle. Those of the rider in front could no longer be distinguished. Green swore softly.
`Hell!' he said. `Gotta take a chance now, Blue. But what's a big trail like this a-doin' here?'
The animal's answer was a movement to the left, and his master, who had the superstitions as well as the instincts of a gambler, accepted the hint. Mile after mile they followed the trail, which twisted and turned round hills and gullies in a way that showed foresight on the part of those who had first used it.
`Feller could take a tidy bunch o' cows over this, an' at a good lick,' muttered the cowpuncher.
An hour's hard riding brought him no sight of the man he was tracking. The cattle-trail, moreover, came to an end on the bank of a wide but shallow stream which emerged from the jaws of a dark and narrow canyon. Into this for some distance the trailer penetrated, scanning the banks of the stream carefully, but no trace of horse or cow rewarded him. On either hand the living rock, sparsely clothed with vegetation, rose almost vertically, while straight ahead a blank wall of rock indicated that the canyon was a blind one.
`An' cows ain't got wings,' Green said, adding to his unspoken thought.
He turned back to where the trail ended, crossed the water, and struck out over an expanse of shale-covered ground. It proved to be more than a mile wide, and on the other side of it, he found cattle sign again.
He pressed on, passing now through deep forest, then a stretch of open grassland, while at times the trail dipped into deep, savage gullies, hewn by Nature out of the bare rock and draped with spare vegetation. Emerging from one of these, he saw a bit of rolling prairie, shut in by wooded hills, and on the edge of it some log-buildings and corrals. In the distance were specks which he knew to be cattle.
The place appeared to be deserted, and he was about to shout when a man showed in the doorway. Green noted that he did not seem surprised, and surmised that his approach had been observed. The fellow was powerful-looking, thick-lipped, and wore a black patch over one eye, which imparted a cunning expression to his face. He had a revolver slung at his hip, and the handle of a knife protruded from his boot.
`Afternoon,' Green greeted pleasantly. `I take it this is the Double X.'
`It is,' said the other shortly. `An' I take it yo're the new Y Z feller who got gay with Poker Pete in Hatchett's.'
Green nodded, smiling. `I don't allow tinhorns to run blazers on me,' he returned easily. `Odd how news travels, even out here.'
`I was in town yesterday,' the man explained quickly, and Green chuckled inwardly. `What's brung yu out this far?'
`Well, I've been huntin' strays, an' got the fool notion I was headin' for home, but I reckon I've strayed some m'self,' the cowpuncher explained.
The one-eyed man burst into a coarse laugh. `If yu keep agoin' yu'll have to go all round the world to get to the Y Z,' he guffawed.
`Is that so? Pointin' right away from it, eh?' replied the visitor. `Well, if this ain't the beatenest country; that's twice I done lost m'self in it.'
If the man doubted this somewhat unlikely excuse for the puncher's presence he showed no sign of it. `Get down an'drink,' he invited. `Can't offer yu any grub: we're clean out. The boys are at Hatchett's with the wa.ggin, fetchin' in what I ordered yesterday.'
His one eye watched the visitor closely as he offered this information. Green nodded understandingly, dismounted, and tied his horse, not yet being certain that Blue would stand for a thrown rein. His host eyed the animal covetously.
`Good hoss,' he remarked. `Had him long?'
`No,' replied the cowboy. `He's kind o' new.'
The room they entered was a large one, and had a boarded floor. The furniture consisted mainly of a long table and a number of chairs and benches, mostly decorated with saddles, guns, and odds and ends of camp
