the slope. It conformed, at vast waste of labor, to the angle of the base
and the irregularities of the soil. This, perhaps, made it seem smaller
than it was. They caught the scent of wood smoke, and then saw a pale
drift of the smoke itself.

A flurry of music escaped by the opening of a door and was shut out by
the closing of it. It was a moment before Terry, startled, had analyzed
the sound. Unquestionably it was a piano. But how in the world, and why
in the world, had it been carted to the top of this mountain?

He glanced at his companion with a new respect and almost with a
suspicion.

"Up to some damn doings again," growled the big man. "Never got no peace
nor quiet up my way."

Another surprise was presently in store for Terry. Behind the house,
which grew in proportions as they came closer, they reached a horse shed,
and when they dismounted, a servant came out for the horses. Outside of
the Cornish ranch he did not know of many who afforded such luxuries.

However, El Sangre could not be handled by another, and Terry put up his
horse and found the rancher waiting for him when he came out. Inside the
shed he had found ample bins of barley and oats and good grain hay. And
in the stalls his practiced eye scanned the forms of a round dozen fine
horses with points of blood and bone that startled him.

Coming to the open again, he probed the darkness as well as he could to
gain some idea of the ranch which furnished and supported all these
evidences of prosperity. But so far as he could make out, there was only