"Been expecting to meet you, all the way up, Miss Chuckie," he said. "Ain't you staying too late? You won't get home before long after dark." "Mrs. Blake and I are not going down tonight, Kid," replied the girl, and she explained the change of plans. Gowan listened attentively, though without commenting either by look or word. When she had quite finished, he asked a single question: "Think your Daddy won't mind, Miss Chuckie?" "He will understand that we simply can't leave here until Lafe and--Mr. Blake are safe up out of the canyon." "All right. You're the boss," he acquiesced. "Just write out a list of what you want. I'll take all the hawsses down to the waterhole, and go on to the ranch. You can look for me back at sunup. The moon rises between three and four." "Genevieve, will you make out the list? Sit down and eat, Kid." "Well, just a snack, Miss Chuckie. Wouldn't stop for that if the hawsses didn't know the trail well enough to go down in the dark." "Have you seen any sign of the murderer?" inquired Ashton. Gowan drained the cup of scalding hot coffee handed to him by Isobel, and answered jeeringly: "Don't worry, Tenderfoot. He won't try to get you tonight. If he came back today, he saw me around. If he comes back tonight, he won't think of climbing High Mesa to look for you." Blake came to the puncher with a list written by himself and his wife on a leaf from his fieldbook. Gowan folded it in his hatband, washed down the last mouthful of bread and ham that he had been bolting, and went to shift his saddle to Isobel's pony, the youngest and freshest of the horses. In two minutes he was riding away down the ridge, willingly followed by the four other horses. They knew as well as he that they were returning to the waterhole. As the campers again sat down to their supper Isobel paused with the coffeepot upraised. "Genevieve," she inquired, "did you put cream on the list?" "Why, no, my dear. It did not occur to me." "Nor may it to Yuki. He will be sure to send eggs and butter, but unless he thinks to save tonight's cream--I'll run and tell Kid." Ashton sprang up ahead of her. "I'll catch him," he said, and sprinted down the ridge. Racing around a thicket of scrub oak, he caught sight of Gowan more than an eighth of a mile ahead. He whistled repeatedly. At last Gowan twisted about in the saddle, and drew rein. He did not turn back, but made Ashton come all the way to him. "Well, what's wanted?" he demanded. "Cream," panted Ashton. "Miss Chuckie says--tell Yuki." "Shore pop, I'll bring all there is," replied Gowan. Ashton started back. "Hold on," said the puncher. "I want to say something to you, and here's the chance." "What is it?" "About him. I want you to keep a mighty close watch tonight." "But you said that the murderer would not--"