Harry went home heavy-hearted. She was bitterly disappointed in herself that she had failed so miserably in helping her little friend. Her pony fell into a walk. She did not notice it. 'Thello, exploring on either side of the road, veered off into the scab land after a squirrel, and Harry did not miss him. Only at the sound of his excited yelping did she wake and look about her. "'Thello!" she called. "Here, boy!" But the clamor only grew more violent, and, after waiting for several moments, Harry turned back to the place where the dog was digging furiously at the bottom of the dry pot hole. Harry's indifference warmed to curiosity as she saw the dog tearing away at something hidden under the crust of the soil that had been mud--something that was weighted down with stones. Curiosity became suddenly amazed conviction that she was at last to know what had become of some, at least, of their lost steers. For there at her feet, plainly visible under the dried clay and stone, lay many hides of cattle. Some were shriveled and rotted beyond identification; some looked fresh. One, with curly white hair still clinging to the skull, Harry could have sworn was the hide of poor Curly Face. She was down on her knees by now, working away with 'Thello in a flame of determination to make sure of her suspicions, when a voice behind her demanded: "What you think you're doin'?" "Finding my lost steers!" she answered triumphantly. "And next I'll find who stole them." "Oh, you will!" Joe sneered. "How you know they're yours?" "There are two red polls, out of Rob's bunch. There's the black shorthorn. Oh, I know well enough! And some one killed 'em, skinned 'em, hid the hides. I'll find who did it, too." She laughed rather wildly. It was such a mean, cruel thing for any one to do! "Three hundred dollars worth of stock we've lost this year!" she cried. "Just wait until Rob hears where I found them! Then we'll see something doing." Without another glance at the boy who stood watching her in silence, she swung up into the saddle and raced for home. She must write at once to Rob of her discovery. As she set down on paper the details of her find, her indignation flamed anew. The person who had stolen those animals had perhaps ruined them; for the loss of a dozen creatures might mean just the difference between having enough to pay the money due Ludlum on the 1st of December and not having it. And if she could not make the payment Ludlum would certainly refuse to renew the loan. But she would not think of it. She would find some way to pay him.