She entered, bearing a basin and towels.

"There," she said, setting the basin on the chair at the bedside.

"There, yuh can wash yore own face. Hungry?"

"Some," he sputtered through streaming water.

"That's good. I got a nice steak an' 'taters an' gravy an' hot bread, an' there's a friend wants to see yuh."

"Who?"

"Swing Tunstall. He just rode in from the Flyin' M. I'm goin' out there this afternoon. Dunno how long I'll be gone. But yuh'll be all right. I done asked Lil Mace to come over here an' live while I'm away. Lil an' Kate an' Dorothy'll look after yuh. An' mind yuh, do what they tell yuh, or I'll make it hot for yuh when I come back."

"What's the matter? Anythin' happened at the ranch?"

"Oh, nothin' much--over a hundred head o' hosses run off, an' Scotty's got two bullets in him."

"What!"

"Yep. That's why I'm goin' out. Got to look after Scotty. Swing says he ain't hurt bad, an' Scotty is tougher'n back-leather, but still there'd ought to be a woman there, so I'm elected. No, I can't give yuh no details. Ain't got time. Swing will tell yuh all he knows.

Good-bye, an' don't forget what I said 'bout mindin' them three girls, Tom."

She picked up the basin and hastened from the room, leaving the door open. Through the doorway Loudon could see a section of the kitchen and Kate and Dorothy busy at the stove. But the objects in view did not register any impressions on his shocked brain. Scotty shot! A hundred horses stolen! Here was a grim matter indeed, one requiring instant action, and he was laid up with a sprained ankle! Very arbitrary ladies, the three Fates. Heartily, but under his breath, for Dorothy was coming, Loudon cursed his luck.

"Well, invalid," smiled Dorothy, "here's your dinner. Shall I feed you, or perhaps you'd prefer Mrs. Mace or Kate? How about it?"

"I only sprained my ankle," said Loudon, red to the ears.

He was wearing one of the Captain's nightgowns. The middle-aged scrutiny of the mother had not quickened him to the fact that the garment was much too small for him, but under the eyes of the daughter he became burningly self-conscious. The knowledge that Scotty had advised Dorothy to fall in love with him did not lessen the agony of the moment.

"I'll put it on this chair," said tactful Dorothy, partly fathoming the cause of Loudon's distress. "Would you like to see Mr. Tunstall?"

"Sh.o.r.e I would. I didn't know he was here at the house."

"He's camping on the doorstep. I'll send him in. Isn't it awful about Scotty Mackenzie? And all those horses, too. Nothing as bad as this ever happened in Sunset County before."

"It won't happen again. Not right away, yuh can bet on that."

Dorothy withdrew, and Swing Tunstall entered. The bristle-haired young man shut the door, grinned toothfully at Loudon, and sat down cross-legged on the floor.

"Howdy, Swing," said Loudon, "why ain't yuh chasin' the hoss thieves?"

"'Cause," replied Tunstall, "Doubleday sent me in to tell the sheriff an' get a doc for Scotty. The doc's on his way, an' the sheriff's due in to-day from Rocket. All the outfit, 'cept Doubleday an' Giant Morton, are cavortin' over the hills an' far away a-sniffin' to pick up the trail."

"When did it happen?"

"Well, as near as we could make out, after siftin' out Scotty's cuss-words an' gettin' down to hard-rock, Scotty was shot 'bout eight or nine o'clock in the evenin'."

"How?"

"Says he heard a racket in the stallion corral. No more'n he slips out of the office when he's plugged twice--once in the left leg, an' a deep graze on his head. The head shot is what knocked him out. He said he didn't come to till after midnight. He drug himself into the office an' tied himself up the best he could an' lived offen airtights till we pulled in. He didn't even know any hosses had been run off till after we got back."

"I s'pose he was shot the evenin' of the dance?"

"Sh.o.r.e. Oh, ain't it lovely? While we're chasin' imaginary feather-dusters, the Flyin' M hosses are vanishin'. It sh.o.r.e was a slick trick. The gent that thought up that plan for getting' every two-legged man in the country out of the way is a wizard. I'd admire to see him, I would. I'll bet he's all head."

"He ain't exactly a fool," admitted Loudon, thinking of Sam Blakely.

Certainly the manner in which the horse-stealing had been carried out bore the ear-marks of 88 methods.

"They had two days' start," observed Swing Tunstall. "Time to ride to Old Mexico almost."

"Telescope's a good tracker," said Loudon, and began to eat his dinner.

"None better. But even Telescope can't do wonders. By the trail the hoss-band headed east. Them hosses was over a hundred, maybe a hundred an' fifty, miles away by the time our outfit got started. In a hundred an' fifty miles o' country yuh'll find lots o' hard ground an' maybe a rainstorm."

"Rain ain't none likely at this time o' year."

"It ain't likely, but hoss thieves with a two-day start are in luck at the go-off. An' luck comes in bunches. If they's any rain wanderin'

'round foot-free an' fancy-loose these gents will get it. An' then where's Telescope an' his trackin'?"

When Tunstall had departed in search of diversion and to buy cartridges, Loudon locked his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. In his mind he turned over the events of the past few days.

He was sure that Sam Blakely and the 88 outfit were the prime movers in the shooting of Scotty and the stealing of Scotty's horses.

Yet, save that the exceeding cleverness of procedure smacked of Blakely, there were no grounds for suspecting the 88 men. Blakely and his gang were not the only cunning horse thieves in the territory.

There were dozens of others free and unhung. Nevertheless, Loudon's instinct fastened the guilt on the 88.

"I'm sh.o.r.e," he muttered, "certain sh.o.r.e. But there ain't nothin' to go by. Not a thing. An' yuh can't prove nothin' lyin' on yore back with a b.u.mped ankle."

Half an hour later the entrance of Kate Saltoun interrupted his gloomy reflections.

"Feeling worse, Tom?" she inquired, her expression anxious.

"Me? Oh, not a little bit. I feel just like a flock o' birds with yaller wings."

"You needn't be snippy. I know how your ankle must pain you, but----"

"It ain't the ankle, Kate. That feels fine, only I know I can't stand on it. It's what I'm thinkin' about. I was wonderin' 'bout Scotty an'

all."

"If I sit with you, would--would you like to talk?" said she with a hesitant smile, the slow red mounting to her cheeks.

"If it wouldn't bother yuh too much."

"I'll be right back."

Kate took away the dishes, and Loudon, who had pulled the blankets up to his chin at her entry, snuggled deeper into the bed and wished himself elsewhere.

"What else could I say?" he asked himself, dismally, "Lord A'mighty, I wish she'd keep away from me."