Benner was intensely interested. “Have you discovered something of importance?” he asked. “I have--something of the utmost importance; something that will spell peace on the Brazos.” “Something that will clear me of any suspicion regarding the taking off of Ace Hawkins?” “I believe so.” “And clear Nate Dunbar?” “Undoubtedly.” “What is it?” “I’ll show you later. Meanwhile, be prepared for a big surprise.” “You’ve got me all worked up,” muttered Benner, with a low laugh. “Everybody will be worked up before we are through. It’s the biggest thing, Benner, that ever happened in this Brazos country.” “Why are you taking Phelps along?” “Because he must hear what we hear, and see what we see. That’s of the utmost importance.” “Can’t I go to Phelps’ ranch with you?” suggested Benner. “I know Hank pretty well, and, if he gets ugly, perhaps I could help you handle him.” “No, Benner,” answered the scout firmly, “I prefer to go alone. You ride with Perry, Dunbar and my pards. They have nothing but friendly feelings for you now. Have your cowboys watch the Star-A ranch until we get back there.” “Just as you say. I’m a good soldier, Cody, and know how to obey my superior officer. Is that all?” “Yes.” “Adios, then.” Benner wheeled his horse and rode back along the trail to the Star-A. The scout spurred into faster gait, and laid a rapid course in the direction of the H-P ranch. Benner turned to look back at him. “I wouldn’t be in Phelps’ shoes for a bushel of dinero,” thought Benner, “if he tries to do what Buffalo Bill don’t want him to.” CHAPTER XXVIII. IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP. From rising ground, where Buffalo Bill had left his pards on the previous occasion when he had gone alone into Phelps’ hangout, the scout surveyed the situation at the hostile ranch. Everything was quiet about the buildings, but it was the brooding quiet that oftentimes precedes a violent storm. Cowboys passed and re-passed slowly under the scout’s eyes, but they seemed to avoid the log house in which Phelps made his headquarters. In that building, no doubt, lay Jake Phelps, the mysteriously injured relative of Hank Phelps. It might be that the building was being avoided by the cowboys, on the injured man’s account. Without lingering long over his survey, the scout started Bear Paw and rode down the hill up which he had once raced with the H-P cowboys tight after him. He hoped that performance was not again to be repeated. No one appeared to molest him. He was seen, nevertheless, and several cowboys, out behind Hank Phelps’ quarters, gathered in an excited group. Leaving Bear Paw at a little distance from the log house, Buffalo Bill dismounted and moved briskly forward on foot. Before he had come within a dozen feet of the front door of the house, Phelps himself appeared in the opening. He seemed, for a moment, as though loath to believe his eyes.