When Fraser reached the dining-room for breakfast his immediate family had finished and departed. He had been up till four o'clock and his mother had let him sleep as long as he would. Now, at nine, he was up again and fresh as a daisy after a morning bath. He found at the next table two other late breakfasters. “Mo'ning, Miss Kinney. How are you, Tennessee?” he said amiably. Both Larry and the young woman admitted good health, the latter so blushingly that Steve's keen eyes suggested to him that he might not be the only one with news to tell this morning. “What's that I hear about Struve and Dunke?” asked Neill at once. “Oh, you've heard it. Well, it's true. I judge Dunke was arranging to get him out of the country. Anyhow, Johnson says he took the fellow out to his surrey from the shaft-house of the Mal Pais under his gun. A moment later the engineer heard a shot and ran out. Dunke lay in the road dead, with a knife through his heart. We found the surrey down in the canyon. It had gone over the edge of the road. Both the hawsses were dead, and Struve had disappeared. How the thing happened I reckon never will be known unless the convict tells it. My guess would be that Dunke attacked him and the convict was just a little bit more than ready for him.” “Have you any idea where Struve is?” “The obvious guess would be that he is heading for Mexico. But I've got another notion. He knows that's where we will be looking for him. His record shows that he used to trail with a bunch of outlaws up in Wyoming. That was most twenty years ago. His old pals have disappeared long since. But he knows that country up there. He'll figure that down here he's sure to be caught and hanged sooner or later. Up there he'll have a chance to hide under another name.” Neill nodded. “That's a big country up there and the mountains are full of pockets. If he can reach there he will be safe.” “Maybe,” the ranger amended quietly. “Would you follow him?” The officer's opaque gaze met the eyes of his friend. “We don't aim to let a prisoner make his getaway once we get our hands on him. Wyoming ain't so blamed far to travel after him--if I learn he is there.” For a moment all of them were silent. Each of them was thinking of the fellow and the horrible trail of blood he had left behind him in one short week. Margaret looked at her lover and shuddered. She had not the least doubt that this man sitting opposite them would bring the criminal back to his punishment, but the sinister grotesque shadow of the convict seemed to fall between her and her happiness. Larry caught her hand under the table and gave it a little pressure of reassurance. He spoke in a low voice. “This hasn't a thing to do with us, Peggy--not a thing. They were already both out of your life.” “Yes, I know, but--”