"Damit!" he continued. "If I hadn't known that the rascal wanted the horse in order to conceal evidence, I'd have sold it back to him to-night. The five Barred Twin Diamond horses in his corral are no longer there. They vanished yesterday. But the sorrel won't vanish. He'll stay right in my corral till wanted. Gentlemen, last night someone endeavoured to steal him. Luckily, I was watching and with a couple of shots I drove off the would-be thief. "To-night Archer and the sheriff came to me and wished to buy the animal. I refused, and they were endeavouring to persuade me when you entered, Mr. Franklin. By the way, if you run across Thomas Loudon, you might tell him that the warrant issued for him has been quashed. Tell him that I hope to meet him in the not-too-distant future. Understand--in the future? I shall see that the Maxson boys are put under arrest, and a warrant issued for Rudd." "No need of issuin' one for him," said Loudon. "Probably not. Still, the legal formalities must be observed." "Shore, you've got the right idea, Judge. Well, I guess we might as well be weavin' along. So long, Judge." "So long, Mr. Franklin. So long, gentlemen. On your way out I wish you'd request the marshal to step in." "Wat ees next?" inquired Laguerre, when the four were in the saddle. "Somebody's got to go north an' notify Scotty," replied Loudon. "You an' I'll scamper round the Lazy River country an' see what we can dig up." "I know just what's comin'!" exclaimed Johnny Ramsay, disgustedly. "Chuck an' me are elected to travel while you an' Telescope have all the fun. Yo're glommin' all the excitement. It ain't right." "Don't fret none, Johnny-jump-up," grinned Loudon. "Yuh'll have all the excitement on the map when yuh come back with Scotty Mackenzie an' the Flyin' M outfit. What do yuh s'pose'll happen when we go bulgin' out to the 88 to grab Rudd? Yuh don't think there won't be a battle, do yuh?" "There'll be a skirmish, anyway, before we get back," complained Johnny, "or I don't know you." "I can't help that, can I? If some 88 sport tries to ventilate me an' Telescope we can't wait for you fellahs. So that's the how of it. You an' Chuck slide up to the Flyin' M, an' when yuh come back yuh'll find Telescope an' me waitin' for yuh at the Cross-in-a-box. See?" "Oh, I see all right," grunted Chuck Morgan. "I see yo're a hawg, Tom. All yuh need is bristles. Tell yuh what, send Johnny, an' let me stay with you. Don't need two fellers to carry one little message." "Not on yore life!" cried the indignant Johnny. "Send Chuck by himself. I don't wanna go. I never did like the climate up on the Dogsoldier nohow. It ain't healthy, an' it'll make me sick or somethin'. An' I ain't a-goin' to risk my valuable health for no man. No, sir, little Johnny Ramsay ain't goin' to."