"Nels, I don't like this a little," he growled. "Them tracks make
straight fer the Peloncillo trail."

"Shore," replied Nels.

"Wal?" went on Stillwell, impatiently.

"I reckon you know what hoss made the other tracks?"

"I'm thinkin' hard, but I ain't sure"

"It was Danny Mains's bronc."

"How do you know thet?" demanded Stillwell, sharply. "Bill, the
left front foot of thet little hoss always wears a shoe thet sets
crooked. Any of the boys can tell you. I'd know thet track if I
was blind."

Stillwell's ruddy face clouded and he kicked at a cactus plant.

"Was Danny comin' or goin'?" he asked.

"I reckon he was hittin' across country fer the Peloncillo trail.
But I ain't shore of thet without back-trailin' him a ways. I
was jest waitin' fer you to come up."

"Nels, you don't think the boy's sloped with thet little hussy,
Bonita?"

"Bill, he shore was sweet on Bonita, same as Gene was, an' Ed