“I’m going to take the facts as I find them,” replied Phelps. “But, first, I’m going to see what’s in those saddlebags.” “That’s right,” approved Buffalo Bill. “I was careful to instruct the baron and Wild Bill not to let a thing be touched. Everything here is just as they found it. Go ahead and look through the saddlebags.” Phelps went to the broken and twisted saddle, and cut the saddlebags away. Then he unbuckled the stout straps, and drew forth a canvas bag full of jingling yellow wealth. Untying the bag, he looked into it. “The gold is here,” said he. “It’s not necessary to count it. I’m willing to concede that the bag is just as it was when Jake tucked it away in the bags.” “Then you’re satisfied?” asked the scout. “I am--entirely so.” “Now say you’ve made a fool of yourself,” counseled the doctor, “and also thank Buffalo Bill and Benner for keeping your men from bringing shame and disgrace on the cattle country last night.” “I was a little hasty,” acknowledged Phelps, “and I’m sorry I took the attitude I did; still, I don’t see how I could have thought any differently, considering the circumstances.” “What about you, Bloom?” asked the scout. “Haven’t you got anything to say about this?” “Not a thing,” answered the sheriff sourly. “Oh, that’s Bloom for you!” cried the doctor sarcastically. “His yellow streak is cropping out again. What’s wrong with this evidence, Bloom?” “It could have been manufactured,” growled Bloom, with an uneasy look in the scout’s direction. “Sure it could!” taunted the doctor. “Wild Bill and the baron could have caught Red Thunderbolt, broken the steer’s neck, and then fixed all this up. But where did they get the saddle and the saddlebags? I reckon they’re the ones who stole them from Jake, aren’t they? Say, Bloom, you’re the limit. If I didn’t think such a terrible lot of your family, I’d come over there and kick you down the slope and into the river. He’s got a fine family,” the doctor explained to those around him. “I brought his boy through the measles last year. Fine boy, too. Nothing like the sheriff.” “I believe what my judgment tells me to believe,” cried Bloom on the defensive. “Your judgment is a fearful and a wonderful thing, Bloom. I’m glad not many people are equipped with the same sort. I guess, friends,” he went on, “that there’s nothing more to be gained here. Nate Dunbar has been proved innocent of the trouble that happened to Jake Phelps; Lige Benner has been cleared of every suspicion of complicity in what happened to Ace Hawkins; and Buffalo Bill and pards have brought peace and good will to the Brazos range. I reckon that’s enough. Suppose we ride? I want to get back to the H-P outfit and see how Jake’s getting along.” The scout left Nomad and Cayuse with Wild Bill and the baron. They were to get the scout’s rope and Red Thunderbolt’s hide. There was a reward of one thousand dollars out for the maverick, and the baron was laying his plans to file a request for the money.