"You're a wonder," said Ajax. "How you divined that the thief would
travel this trail beats me."

"Wal," said old man Dumble, "it's this way. There's a big dealer comes
three times a year to Bakersfield; he pays good money for good stuff--
an' he asks no questions. I happened to hear he was a-comin' down only
las' Sunday."

Something in his voice, some sly gleam in his eye, aroused my
suspicions. As soon as we happened to be alone, I whispered to my
brother: "I say, what if the old man is playing hare and hound with
us?"

"Pooh!" said Ajax. "He's keen as mustard to collar this thief--the
keener, possibly, since he discovered that the fellow is a tenderfoot.
I've sized him up about right. He wants to establish a record. It's
like this teetotal business of his. The people here refuse to believe
evil of a man who drinks water, goes to church, and catches horse-
thieves. I'll add one word more. To give the old fraud his due, he
really holds in abhorrence any crime that might land him in the State
penitentiary. Hullo! There's a faint reek out yonder. I'll take a
squint through my glasses."

We called a halt. We were now on the alkaline plains beyond the San
Emigdio mountains. Riding all through the night, we had changed horses
at a ranch where we were known. Ajax stared through his binoculars.

"What we're after," said he quietly, "is in sight."