“Two or three hours,” answered the scout; “I can’t say exactly.” “I can’t go away from here for two or three hours,” expostulated Phelps. “Tut!” returned the doctor, “you can stay away six, if necessary, in order to get to the bottom of these mysteries. It’s time, well spent, Hank. Prouther,” he added to the cowboy who held his horse while he mounted, “go in and sit with Jake till we come back. You won’t have to do anything but stay with him. He’s not very good company, Jake ain’t, but I’m hoping for the best. Go on, Prouther.” Prouther looked toward Phelps to have the order confirmed. Phelps nodded, half sullenly. Meanwhile, the scout had been mounting Bear Paw. “Which way, Buffalo Bill?” called the doctor. “Up the hill,” answered the scout. “We’ll ride, first, for the forks of the trail, where it separates for the Circle-B and for Hackamore.” Bloom and Phelps evidently did not care to ride beside the scout. They started on ahead, leaving the doctor to follow with Buffalo Bill. “What do you expect to prove by this little junket, my friend?” asked the doctor, as they rode. “I expect to prove whether or not Lige Benner had anything to do with the shooting of Ace Hawkins, for one thing,” was the reply. “He didn’t--take it from me.” “I don’t think he did, either, but Benner himself is anxious to have that point cleared up.” “Jerry, Lige’s brother,” mused the doctor, “is Lige’s worst enemy. Lige has fired Jerry. Sent him to Houston, with a couple of thousand and his blessing. He went two days ago. Pity he ever came to the Circle-B at all. Lige Benner is a pretty good sort of a fellow, Cody, down at bottom.” “I believe that, too, after the way he stood by us at the Star-A last night.” “What else do you expect to prove by this trip of ours this morning?” “Nate Dunbar’s innocence in the matter of Jake’s injury.” “I had already gathered that. Anything more to be brought out?” “Well, yes. For instance, we’re to get back the pay-roll money and Jake’s saddle.” “Better and better. Go on. You delight me.” “And then, doctor,” said the scout, “we will prove how Jake got his injury.” “Whoop!” tuned up the doctor. “I can’t begin to tell you how glad I am that I’ve come. My friend, you’re a man after my own heart. You do things. While the trouble pot is boiling on the Brazos, you keep busy and find out the reason--then settle the reason. There is much cause for rejoicing m the fact that you paid the Brazos country a visit, just when you did. No man but you could have laid hold here and man handled this emergency in the correct way. I take off my hat to you.” The scout laughed. “You’ll have to take it off to some of my pards, this trip,” said he. Bloom and Phelps, who had been galloping at a good pace along the trail, suddenly drew rein. “I reckon this is as far as I’m going,” declared Phelps. “Now, Hank!” protested the doctor indulgently, “what’s broke loose now?” “Here’s the trap I told you about,” snapped Bloom. “Look ahead, there!”