appear within a day or two, he would gladly render every
assistance in looking him up. Another matter of considerable
moment would be the arrival that morning of a silent partner, the
financial man of the firm from Washington, D.C. He was due to
arrive on the "Cannon Ball" at eight o'clock, and we all
sauntered down to meet the train from the East. On its arrival,
Siringo and I stood back among the crowd, but the buyers pushed
forward, looking for their friend. The first man to alight from
the day coach, coatless and with both eyes blackened, was Archie
Tolleston; he almost fell into the arms of our cattle buyers. I
recognized Archie at a glance, and dragging the detective inside
the waiting-room, posted him as to the arrival with the wild look
and blood-shot optics. Siringo cautioned me to go to his room and
stay there, promising to report as the day advanced.

Sponsilier had camped the night before on the main river, and as
I crossed to the hotel, his commissary pulled up in front of
Wright, Beverly & Co.'s outfitting store. Taking the chances of
being seen, I interviewed Dave's cook, and learned that his
foreman had given him an order for the supplies, and that
Sponsilier would not come in until after the herd had passed the
Saw Log. As I turned away, my attention was attracted by the
deference being shown the financial man of the cattle firm, as
the party wended their way around to the Wright House. The silent
member of the firm was a portly fellow, and there was no one in
the group but did him honor, even the detective carrying a light
grip, while Tolleston lumbered along with a heavy one.

My effacement was only temporary, as Siringo appeared at his room
shortly afterward. "Well, Quirk," said he, with a smile, "I