“Yes, I know the story, Jake,” the sheriff interrupted quietly. “I’m askin’ you what you can tell me about that stampede.” “Me! Why pick on me?” the wrinkled little man piped. “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t know a thing about it?” “How about you, Don?” asked Daniels. “Don don’ know a thing--” “Talk for himself, can’t he, Jake?” the sheriff wanted to know. “Don’t get on the prod, Frank,” advised the owner of the Circle J P. Voice and manner were still mild and harmless. “No,” agreed Daniels, smiling. “How about it, Don?” Black met his steady gaze sulkily. “Didn’t know there was a stampede till Jake told me so after he’d been at the ’phone.” “I expect you’ll have a chance to prove that, Don. I got to arrest you.” “What for?” demanded the dark man. “For causing the death of that fellow in the cañon this mo’ning by stampeding cattle down the draw.” “Any evidence, Frank?” This from Prowers, on whose face a thin lip smile rested. “Some. Don made threats yesterday. He spent the day rounding-up cattle and drove ’em into Box Elder Cañon for the night. About nine in the evening he reached home an’ ate supper there, him and another fellow. They took the road back to the cañon before daybreak this mo’ning--not later than three o’clock. A friend of theirs stayed in the old Thorwaldson cabin to watch the stock. They ate breakfast with him.” A flicker of fire burned in the skim-milk eyes. “My, Frank, you know a lot. Anything more?” “Some things I don’t know, I only guess, Jake. I know Don an’ his friends had ham and cornbread and coffee for breakfast, but I don’t know yet who his two friends are.” “Only guess that, eh?” “That’s right, Jake.” “You’ll know that soon,” jeered Prowers. “Any one with an imagination active as yore’s won’t let a li’l’ thing like facts stand in his way.” “I’ll have to take Don down to Wild Horse with me,” Daniels replied impassively. “That’s yore business,” the old cattleman said. “You’re makin’ a mistake. Don spent the night with me, if you want to know.” “Sure you didn’t spend it with him?” “You arrestin’ me, too, Frank?” “No.” “Only guessin’ at me?” “I’m not doing my guessin’ out loud--not all of it.” Prowers’s splenetic laugh cackled. “You’d ought to get one o’ these brass stars from a detective agency, by jiminy by jinks. A fellow that can mind-read Don here an’ tell what he had for breakfast is a sure-enough sleuth and no ornery sheriff.” The old cattleman’s irony did not disturb Daniels. “I know what he had for breakfast because I saw the fry-pan an’ the dishes.” “Better go slap a saddle on yore horse, Don,” jeered Prowers. “Frank’s arrestin’ you because you had ham an’ cornbread an’ coffee for breakfast.” “You know why I’m arrestin’ him. He’ll have plenty of chances to show he’s not guilty if he ain’t,” the sheriff answered, not unamiably.