to discover what had woke me. Somebody on the other side of the
creek was trying to sing. It was ce'tainly the limit. Pretty soon
he come out of the brush and I seen it was Bannister."

"You're sure it was Bannister?"

"If seeing is believing, I'm sure."

"And was his singing really so bad?"

"I'd hate ever to hear worse."

"Was he singing when you saw him?"

"No, he'd just quit. He caught sight of my pony grazing, and
hunted cover real prompt."

"Then it might have been another man singing in the thicket."

"It might, but it wasn't. Y'u see, I'd followed him through the
bush by his song, and he showed up the moment I expected him."

"Still there might have been another man there singing."

"One chance in a million," he conceded.

A sudden hope flamed up like tow in her heart. Perhaps, after
all, Ned Bannister was not the leader of the outlaws. Perhaps
somebody else was masquerading in his name, using Bannister's
unpopularity as a shield to cover his iniquities. Still, this was