"Why, Pratt is all right," declared Frances, confidently. "I don't know anything _for_ him--and do know one thing _against_ him," growled the old ranchman. "He's been up and about all night, so far. Weren't you just talking to him?" "Oh, yes, Dad! But Pratt is all right." "That's as may be. What was he doing wandering around that court?" "Oh, Dad! Don't worry about _him_. His arm and chest hurt him----" "Humph! didn't hurt him when he went to bed, did they? Yet he was sneaking along this hall and looking into this very room when the door was slightly ajar. I saw him," said the old ranchman, bitterly. Frances was amazed by this statement; but she realized that her father was oversuspicious regarding the interest of strangers in the old Spanish chest and its contents. "Never mind Pratt," she said. "I came downstairs to find you, Daddy, because there really _is_ a stranger about the house." "What do you mean, Frances?" was the sharp retort. The girl told him briefly about the man she had observed climbing up to the veranda roof, and later to the roof of the house by aid of the rope ladder. "And Pratt tells me he heard some sound up there. He thought it was a big bird," she concluded. "Come on!" said her father, hastily. "Let's see that ladder." He locked the door of the treasure room and strode up the main stairway. Frances kept close behind him and warned him to step softly--rather an unnecessary bit of advice to an old Indian trailer like Captain Rugley! But when they came to the window through which Frances had seen the dangling ladder it was gone. The old ranchman shot a ray of his electric torch through the opening; but the light revealed nothing. "Gone!" he announced, briefly. "Do--do you think so, Dad?" "Sure. Been scared off." "But what could he possibly want--climbing up over our roof, and all that?" Captain Rugley stood still and stroked his chin reflectively. "I reckon I know what they're after---- "They? But, Daddy, there was only one man." "One that was coming over the roof," said her father. "But he had pals--sure he did! If one of them wasn't in the house----" "Why, Dad!" exclaimed Frances, in wonder. "You can't always tell," said the old ranchman, slowly. "There's a heap of valuables in that chest. Of course, they don't all belong to me," he added, hastily. "My partner, Lon, has equal rights in 'em--don't ever forget that, Frances, if something should happen to me." "Why, Dad! how you talk!" she exclaimed. "We can never tell," sighed her father. "Treasure is tempting. And it looks to me as though this fellow who climbed over the roof expected to find somebody inside to help him. That's the way it looks to me," he repeated, shaking his head obstinately. "Dear Dad! you don't mean that you think Pratt Sanderson would do such a thing?" said Frances, in a horrified tone. "We don't know him." "But his coming here to the Bar-T was unexpected. I urged him to come. That lion really scratched him----"