When Scott realized where he was he found himself sitting in the shade of the pines beside Jed. The horse seemed to realize that something was wrong. He was standing close with his soft muzzle almost resting on his master’s shoulder. For one wild moment Scott thought that he might have been dreaming, but the dirt on his shirt where he had been lying in the aspens and the vividness of the picture soon forced him to accept it as a reality.

Watching the fate of that great mass of sheep was the most tragic experience of his life. It seemed to him like a personal catastrophe. Certainly this would put a stop to any further attempts on the part of the stockmen to evade the laws. Judged only as a financial problem the loss of that band would cost Jed Clark more than he would have gained by crowding on all the extras that the range could possibly support under any conditions. And to Scott the financial loss was the smallest part of it; to him it appeared more in the light of a crime.

His first impulse was to ride directly down to the supervisor’s office and report the whole affair, taking it for granted that the horrible accident would make Jed Clark penitent and cause him to give up the fight. Fortunately, however, he did not act upon the impulse. Instead he tried to analyze the case as coldly and logically as he could. After all, would Jed feel as he did? He knew that Jed was not very soft hearted. His experience in the horse trade had taught him that much. Moreover, he knew that most of these men looked on sheep as values in wool and mutton rather than animals, and would probably look on the death of those poor beasts as so many dollars to be charged off to profit and loss. It would make Jed even more determined than ever to make good his loss by any means within his reach. No one but his own men knew of his loss and he had the extra sheep in the other ca?on to conceal.

The more Scott thought about it the clearer it became to him that it was his duty to push the case right through to a finish as he had been doing before the accident. After all, he had no proof against Jed as yet and would not have until the recount had been made and he had shown up the hidden sheep. He had heard and seen enough to convict a dozen men, but he had only his own word for it and he felt sure that he, a stranger, could not make himself believed as against Dawson, an old timer with a good record in the service. No, he must push the thing through, and he must be about it.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost four o’clock. He did not think there was much danger of their trying to move the sheep out of the ca?on, but he decided to have Baxter watch them. He wanted his advice anyway. He would be a good witness, too, and anything he could learn from the herders would help to back Scott’s testimony.

With a final glance at the scene of the tragedy he mounted and rode swiftly away in search of Baxter. He guessed rightly that he would find him patrolling the boundary of his district. There was no trace of him but he followed his hunch to turn to the left and soon ran onto him.

“Nothing doing here,” he shouted as soon as Scott was within shouting distance. “Any news over your way?”

“Is there?” Scott exclaimed, “there’s nothing but news and I need some more help from you.”

“Good, I hope you have a more lively job for me this time. Things have been pretty dull here, even for a Sunday afternoon.”

Scott had been so intent on his problem that he had forgotten it was Sunday. He had even forgotten that he had not had any lunch.

“It may not be any more lively, but I think maybe it will be more interesting,” he explained. Then he proceeded to tell Baxter how he had found the sheep, and how he had watched them build the fence. Baxter listened eagerly and in silence for fear he would interrupt the story, till Scott came to the discovery of Heth’s real name.

“Dugan!” Baxter exclaimed excitedly. “Did you say he was a thin, wiry fellow, medium height, dark hair, and a rather sharp face?”

“That’s the man,” Scott said, “Do you know him?”

“Know him,” Baxter exclaimed excitedly, “I know him like a book. I thought that I knew all the sheep men in this country and I know him. Why man, he used to be Williams’ foreman over on the Onama when they had all that trouble over there. He’s a gun man and a crook from the word go.”

“He’s a crook, all right,” Scott said, “whatever else he is. And what’s more I believe that Dawson is in with him.”

“Oh, he can’t be,” Baxter remonstrated, “and yet, hold on. He knows Dugan as well as I do and he must have appointed Dugan for this job.”

Scott told of the proposed meeting that evening between Dawson and Jed Clark.

Baxter gave a long whistle. “It would be interesting to know what goes on at that meeting.”

“And that is exactly what I am going to find out. But I did not tell you the worst of this ca?on business.”

Scott felt the horror of that awful sight coming over him again as he told the story and Baxter listened with open mouth.

“The poor fools,” Baxter exclaimed sympathetically. “It’s just like them though; one go, all go. You say there were about three thousand of them? Well, they ought not to be so hard to count now.”

The cold-blooded remark made Scott realize how well he had guessed what Jed’s attitude would be. If it did not affect Baxter any more than that it would roll off Jed like water off a duck’s back.

“What’s your plan now?” Baxter asked.

“Well, Dugan said Dawson was going to ’phone Jed to-night where he would meet him and I am going to listen in and see if I can find out where that meeting is going to be. If I succeed, I propose to be there and see what happens.”

“Where do I come in?” Baxter asked curiously.

“I wanted to see if you would watch those sheep over there in that ca?on and see if you can overhear any more of the conversation between those two herders. We’ll need all the evidence we can get and besides I want to be sure that those sheep wi............