He devoted his efforts to finding the shell from Banker's rifle which he had seen on the snow when he left the place. It was finally uncovered and he put it in his pocket. Then he left the place and headed down the canyon, searching for signs of the cow-puncher. He found none, since Dave had not been in this direction. But De Launay pushed on until almost noon. He rode high on the slopes where the snow was shallower and where he could get an unrestricted view of the canyon. He was about to give it up, however, and turn back when his horse stopped and pricked his ears forward, raising its head. De Launay followed this indication and saw what he took to be a clump of sagebrush on the snow about half a mile away. He watched it and thought it moved. Intent observation confirmed this impression and it was made a certainty when he saw the black patch waver upward, stagger forward and then fall again. With an exclamation, De Launay spurred his horse recklessly down the slope toward the figure on the snow. He galloped up to it and flung himself to the ground beside it. The figure raised itself on arms from which the sleeves hung in tatters and turned a pale and ghastly face toward him. It was Sucatash. Battered and bruised, with an arm almost helpless and a leg as bad, the cow-puncher was dragging himself indomitably along while his failing strength held out. But he was almost at the end of his resources. Hunger and weakness, wounds and bruises, had done their work and he could have gone little farther. De Launay raised his head and chafed his blue and frozen hands. The cow-puncher tried to grin. "Glad to see you, old-timer," he croaked. "You're just about in time." "What happened to you, man?" "Don't know. Heard a horse nicker and then mine stumbled and pinned me. Got a bad fall and when I come to I was lying down the hill against some greasewood. Leg a'most busted and an arm as bad. Horse nowhere around. Got anything to drink? Snow ain't much for thirst." De Launay had food and water and gave it to him. After eating ravenously for a moment he was stronger. "Funny thing, that horse nickerin'. It was snowin' and I didn't see him. But, after I come to I tried to climb up where I was throwed. It was some job but I made it. There was my horse, half covered with snow. Some one had shot him." "Shot him? And then left you to lie there?" "Just about that. There wasn't no tracks. Snow had filled 'em. But I reckon that horse wasn't just shot by accident." "It was not. And Dave's gone." "Dave? What's that?" "He's gone. Left the camp day before yesterday and never came back. I wasn't there." "And madame? She all right?" "She is--now. I found her yesterday morning with Banker, the prospector. He was trying to torture her into telling him where that mine is located. Hurt her pretty bad." Sucatash lay silent for a moment. Then: "Jumpin' snakes!" he said. "That fellow has got a lot comin' to him, ain't he?"