regular and square, even if he does make his salt off the cattle outfits."
Zang did not answer. His mind was racing in an effort to find support for the swift suspicion lodged there. This Original Bill was a man of infinite resource. Zang remembered that from the old days of their association together with the trail herds. The tribute was emphasized by recollection, too, of the man's many stratagems in their more recent private warfare. He dismissed as untenable the premise that the range inspector had been prompted to spirit away the girl to satisfy any private grudge arising out of the fight in Hilma's cabin; Original was not one to hound a woman. But—and here suspicion nearly gave way to conviction—Blunt had seen enough to guess the hold Hilma had upon Zang Whistler; forestalling the release of Zang Whistler by the mob, would not his shrewdness have prompted him to gain possession of the girl in order that he might lead her questing lover into a trap?
"Well, Red, reckon I 'll go get my little hoss an' get busy. I just got to find Hilma." Zang put out a hand to meet the sheriff's.
"Good luck to you, Zang," the unconven-
