“Do that, kid,” said Bud, slipping wearily off Sunfish. He gave the reins into Eddie's hand, motioned Jerry with his head to follow, and hurried down the winding path to the corrals. The cool brilliance of the morning, the cheerful warbling of little, wild canaries in the bushes as he passed, for once failed to thrill him with joy of life. He was wondering whether to go straight to the house and search it if necessary to make sure that she had not been there, or whether Indian cunning would serve him best. His whole being ached for direct action; his heart trembled with fear lest he should jeopardize Marian's safety by his impetuous haste to help her. Pop, coming from the stable just as Bud was crossing the corral, settled the question for him. Pop peered at him sharply, put a hand to the small of his back and came stepping briskly toward him, his jaw working like a sheep eating hay. “Afoot, air ye?” he exclaimed curiously. “What-fer idea yuh got in yore head now, young feller? Comin' back here afoot when ye rid two fast horses? Needn't be afraid of ole Pop--not unless yuh lie to 'im and try to git somethin' fur nothin'. Made off with Lew's wife, too, didn't ye? Oh, there ain't much gits past ole Pop, even if he ain't the man he used to be. I seen yuh lookin' at her when yuh oughta been eatin'. I seen yuh! An' her watchin' you when she thought nobuddy'd ketch her at it! Sho! Shucks a'mighty! You been playin' hell all around, now, ain't ye? Needn't lie--I know what my own eyes tells me!” “You know a lot, then, that I wish I knew. I've been in Crater all the time, Pop. Did you know Lew was mixed up in a bank robbery yesterday, and the cashier of the bank shot him? The rest of the gang is dead or in jail. The sheriff did some good work there for a few minutes.” Pop pinched in his lips and stared at Bud unwinkingly for a minute. “Don't lie to me,” he warned petulantly. “Went to Crater, did ye? Cashed them checks, I expect.” Bud pulled his mouth into a rueful grin. “Yes, Pop, I cashed the checks, all right--and here's what's left of the money. I guess,” he went on while he pulled out a small roll of bills and licked his finger preparatory to counting them, “I might better have stuck to running my horses. Poker's sure a fright. The way it can eat into a man's pocket--” “Went and lost all that money on poker, did ye?” Pop's voice was shrill. “After me tellin' yuh how to git it--and showin' yuh how yuh could beat Boise--” the old man's rage choked him. He thrust his face close to Bud's and glared venomously. “Yes, and just to show you I appreciate it, I'm going to give you what's left after I've counted off enough to see me through to Spokane. I feel sick, Pop. I want change of air. And as for riding two fast horses to Crater--” he paused while he counted slowly, Pop licking his lips avidly as he watched,--“why I don't know what you mean. I only ride one horse at a time, Pop, when I'm sober. And I was sober till I hit Crater.”