Brand Blotters - Page 45/180

"Looks like these are worked out on purpose," commented Lee. "The guy's

leaving too easy a trail to follow, and it quits right abrupt in the

bushes. Must 'a' took an airship from here, I 'low."

"Does look funny. Hello! What's this?"

Norris had picked up a piece of black cloth and was holding it out. A

startled oath slipped from the lips of the Southerner. He caught the rag

from the hands of his companion and studied it with a face of growing

astonishment.

"What's up?"

Lee dived into his pocket and drew forth the mask he had been wearing.

Silently he fitted it to the other. The pieces matched exactly, both in

length and in the figure of the pattern.

When the Southerner looked up his hands were shaking and his face ashen.

"For God's sake, Phil, what does this mean?" he cried hoarsely.

"Search me."

"It must have been--looks like the hold-up was somebody--my God, man, we

left this rag at the ranch when we started!" the rancher whispered.

"That's right."

"We planned this thing right under the nigger's room. He must 'a' heard

and---- But it don't look like Jim Budd to do a thing like that."

Norris had crossed the road again and was standing on the edge of the

lateral.

"Hello! This ditch is full of water. When we passed down it was empty," he

said.

Lee crossed over and stood by his side, a puzzled frown on his face.

"There hadn't ought to be water running hyer now," he said, as if to

himself. "I don't see how it could 'a' come hyer, for Bill Weston--he's

the ditch rider--went to Mesa this mo'ning, and couldn't 'a' got back to

turn it in."

The younger man stooped and examined a foot-print at the edge of the

ditch. It was the one Melissy had made just as she stepped into the rig.

"Here's something new, Lee. We haven't seen this gentleman's track before.

Looks like a boy's. It's right firm and deep in this soft ground. I'll bet

a cooky your nigger never made that track."

The Southerner crouched down beside him, and they looked at it together,

head to head.

"No, it ain't Jim's. I don't rightly savez this thing at all," the old

man muttered, troubled at this mystery which seemed to point to his

household.

"By Moses, I've got it! The guy who did the holding up had his horse down

here. He loaded the sack on its back and drove off up the ditch. All we

got to do is follow the ditch up or down till we come to the place where

he climbed out and struck across country."