“_Si_,” said Perez. “Mebbe some robbers long time ago hide stuff thar, who knows? Whar I was--in de beeg house, sheriff--I hear often those robbers speak o’ buryin’ their loot.” The sheriff nodded. “That’s the answer, Perez, in my mind; it might have been some o’ that Alamosa bank loot that was stolen eight years ago; or mebbe some o’ that Como stage gold bullion that was taken twelve years ago. I’ll have to look up them old jobs--an’ speakin’ o’ jobs, I’ll call up about yuhrs right now, son!” The sheriff was successful. On the third call Jack Quinn, a sheep rancher on Larimer Creek, agreed to take on Perez, the ex-convict, provided the sheriff thought he would go straight. The sheriff said he did think so, and the deal was made, after which the sheriff lectured Perez again, got that honest fellow’s sworn promise to be good, and started him on his way with a loan of two dollars for grub en route. Perez was bubbling over with gratitude. “_Gracias_, sheriff!” he exclaimed. “I go Señor Quinn’s at once. Mebbe some day Manuel Perez able to pay sheriff back for kindness. Watch an’ see! _Adios_, señor!” When Shorty reported, some hours later, that he had been unable to find a single clew in the vicinity of the Third Street bridge, the sheriff was not at all surprised. He had not expected Shorty to find any. He said so. He also pointed out to his disappointed deputy that he himself had searched the scene rather thoroughly while making his first investigation of the place and had not found anything. It looked like a hopeless proposition. “Not a danged clew,” said the sheriff. “But I got my mind made up as to what it was, Shorty. It wasn’t nobody business. It was loot buried thar from the Alamosa bank robbery eight years ago. They never caught the crooks, an’ never found trace o’ the dough. It was that or else the loot from the Como stage robbery twelve years ago, or from some other job. We ain’t got a chance in ten million o’ landin’ them guys, despite the description Speers got. We kin check on the descriptions we got at the time o’ them Alamosa an’ Como stage robbers an’ see ef they coincides with Speer’s descriptions o’ the men last night, but outside o’ that----” “I’ll check on ’em,” said Shorty, moving toward the door. “Go ahead,” said the sheriff wearily, “an’ meanwhile I’ll stay here an’ do a little heavy thinkin’, Shorty. We kain’t afford to overlook no bets, ef thar are any bets. Yuh remember what Fred Speers said--big giants o’ fellers an’ one with light hair. It’s a purty meager description, but it’s all we got, Shorty!” Sheriff Cook, however, had little time to do much heavy thinking, as he had put it. Shorty had not been gone more than thirty minutes when in came “Doc” Healey, and Eddie Owens, and Bert Clark, the county commissioners, and they were considerably excited. They got down to brass tacks immediately.