“Red Steve has taken the One-way Trail, friends,” said the doctor gravely. “I hold that there’s something good in the worst of us--even in Red Steve. Let us hope that there was enough good in him to help the poor fellow where he’s going now.” The doctor turned and went out of the hut. Wild Bill gently pulled a fold of the blanket over the face on the floor. “I’ll send some of my boys from the Star-A to put him away,” said Lige Benner. “We’re not ready to go to the Star-A ranch yet, Benner,” remarked the scout. “How much longer will we be?” “Not much.” “Red Thunderbolt scores another victim,” said Perry. “I wonder when that maverick will finally be put out of commission?” “Perhaps that question can be answered if you come with me, Perry,” suggested the scout. “You’ll go along, Hickok, and show us the place,” he added. “I was there last night, but it might take a little time for me to find it to-day.” “There’s nothing more to keep me here,” said Wild Bill. Thoughtfully, the party left the hut. Hank Phelps seemed in more tractable mood. The tragic end of Red Steve’s life story had wrought a deep impression. “How’re you goin’ to prove Nate Dunbar didn’t get the best of Jake?” asked Bloom of the scout. “By a very simple method,” was the answer, “but it will be as conclusive as it is simple.” “Have your pards nabbed the feller that done it?” “They have.” “I reckon you’ve got hold o’ some’un who’s willing to shoulder the blame jest to clear Nate Dunbar of----” The scout whirled in his tracks and gave Bloom a square look. Bloom’s words died on his lips immediately. “That’s right,” said the scout, “step carefully, Bloom. We’ve had one row over your recklessness in using language. Our next row will be more serious. Mount, friends,” he went on to the rest. “I’ll not be detaining you much longer.” They all took to their saddles again. This time Wild Bill took the lead. The course they traversed was back into the trail, then off toward the timbered bottoms of the Brazos. “We’ve had er s’prise er two,” observed the old trapper to the doctor, “an’ now thar’s more comin’. Got any idee what we’ll find next, doc?” “Not the slightest, my friend,” was the reply, “but if the two Bills are back of it we can rest assured that it will be worth while, amply worth while.” The first sign that the party had of their proximity to their destination was given by a voice very familiar to the pards. “Dis vay, people! Here iss vere you vant to go! I peen here waiting so long as I can’t tell. Dis vay, bards!” The baron showed himself in front of a copse of bushes. He was on foot, and seemed to have been on guard. But what was he guarding? “Howdy, baron!” said old Nomad. “You an’ Wild Bill appear ter hev been doin’ a few things.” “You bed my life!” jubilated the baron, “aber ve ditn’t know how mooch ve hat tone ondil Puffalo Pill came oudt dis vay lashdt night und toldt us. Ach, Mrs. Tunpar, I vas so habby dot I vas aple to helup!”