“This is tough,” muttered Perry. “If it isn’t one thing with us, it’s another, right along. My boy,” and he laid a hand on Nate’s shoulder, “that quarrel with Jake Phelps was bad business for you.” From this it appeared that Nate had already told Perry of what had taken place in the hotel office. “A quarrel of any kind is always bad business,” dropped in the scout, “but what makes this particularly bad for Nate is the fact that Jake was knocked down and robbed on the trail. There are those in town who overheard the last words spoken by Nate and Jack Phelps. Those last words were threats. Nate left town very soon after Jake rode away. That also is known.” Anger rose in Dunbar’s eyes and flamed in his face. “But who dares call me a thief?” he cried. “If I followed Jack Phelps to have it out with him, would I have taken his dirty money? Would I have used a club when I had a gun handy? As a matter of fact, could I have got close enough to him to use a club before he would have sent a bullet into me? Why don’t people use a little reason? Great guns! They might give me credit for not being such a fool!” “Maybe Lige Benner is back of this in some way?” suggested Perry. “No,” said the scout, “Benner is not back of it,” and he went on to tell how the owner of the Circle-B ranch had come to the hotel and made his peace with the Star-A ranchers through the scout. This line of talk brought Red Steve prominently to the fore. “Et was Red Steve as done et,” declared the old trapper. “He laid fer Jake. Mebbyso he knowed Jake had the pay-roll money. Red was plannin’ ter git out o’ the kentry, an’ the money would shore come handy fer him.” “It was Red Steve!” declared Perry. “Admitting that it was Red Steve,” said Dunbar, “the same thing would apply to him that applied to me. How could he ever get close enough to Jake to hit him over the head with a club. It don’t sound reasonable. There’s something more back of it.” “It all depends,” qualified the scout, “on the lay of the land at the place where the attack on Jake was made. If there were bushes where Red Steve could lie concealed----” “Thar warn’t,” spoke up Pierce. “It was flat kentry, whar the attack was made, an’ nothin’ but grass. Thar warn’t no place whar a feller could hide. How Red Steve ever done it is a myst’ry, but he sure done it someway.” “It was Red Steve, of course,” averred Buffalo Bill. “Where are the rest of my pards, Perry?” “They’re out looking for Red Steve,” answered Perry; “they left pretty soon after you struck out for town.” “The baron and Little Cayuse went with them?” “Yes.” “Then we are short-handed and no mistake,” muttered the scout. “Short-handed for what?” asked Dunbar. “Tell him, Sim,” said Buffalo Bill, “just as you told me.”