“They're bringin' him t' camp,” he answered huskily. “We found a horse--a big white horse they call the Fern Outlaw”--the Silent One started and came closer, listening intently; evidently he knew the horse--“saddled in the corral, and the gate tied shut. We dubbed around a while, but we didn't find--Harry. So we camped down by the corral and waited. We set there all night--and the horse faunching around inside something fierce. When--it come daybreak--I seen something--by the fence, inside. It was--Harry.” Pink shivered and moistened his dry lips. “That Fern Outlaw--some uh the boys know--is a devil t' mount. He'd got Harry down--hell, Rowdy! it--it was sure--awful. He'd been there all night--and that horse stomping.” “Shut up!” Rowdy turned all at once deathly sick. He had once seen a man who had been trampled by a maddened, man-killing horse. It had not been a pretty sight. He sat down weakly and covered his face with his shaking hands. The others stood around horrified, muttering disjointed, shocked sentences. Pink lifted his head from where it had fallen upon his arm. “One thing, Rowdy--I done. You can tell Jessie. I shot that horse.” Rowdy dropped his hands and stood up. Yes, he must tell Jessie. “You'll have to take the herd on,” he told Pink in his masterful way. “I'll catch you to-morrow some time. I've got to go back and tell Jessie. You know the trail I was going to take--straight across to Wild Horse Lake. From there you strike across to North Fork--and if I don't overtake you on the way, I'll hit camp some time in the night. It's all plain sailing.” CHAPTER 13. Rowdy Finds Happiness. Miss Conroy was rather listlessly endeavoring to persuade the First Reader class that “catch” should not be pronounced “ketch,” when she saw Rowdy ride past the window. Intuition of something amiss sent her to the door before he reached it. “Can't you give the kids a day off?” he began, without preface. “I've got such a lot to talk about--and I don't come very often.” He thought that his tone was perfectly natural; but all the same she turned white. He rode on to a little tree and tied his horse--not that it was necessary to tie him, but to avoid questions. Miss Conroy went in and dismissed the children, although it was only fifteen minutes after nine. They gathered up their lunch-pails and straggled out reluctantly, round-eyed, and curious. Rowdy waited until the last one had gone before he went in. Miss Conroy sat in her chair on the platform, and she was still white; otherwise she seemed to have herself well in hand. “It's about Harry,” she asserted, rather sharply. “Have they--caught him?” Rowdy stopped half-way down the aisle and stared. “How did you know they were--after him?”