“That man isn’t going to be captured easily, and he’s got to be wounded to be taken,” he added. “One man’s just as good on his trail as a hundred, provided that one man can get the drop. In fact if you go setting a whole pack of hounds on the trail of a wolf like that, all you’re going to do is run him out of the country, and that isn’t what’s wanted, because an enemy of that sort is an enemy not of any one particular clan or neighborhood, but of all humanity. He’s got to be put out of the way for all humanity’s sake.” The district attorney was puzzled and inclined to be downcast. “I’m going to help you some in this case,” went on Bertram. “In fact I’m going just as far as it is possible for any one to go. It isn’t alone because I think a lot of that little kid in there, who has been struck down in this ruthless way. There’s a long score to be settled before Jimmy Coyle’s case is to be considered at all. For one thing I believe the man who shot this boy, and who has been doing these murders around here, the work of the masked horseman, is the same person who killed Nick Caldwell.” “I thought Nick was killed by a general volley, fired by the invaders when the ranch on the Lower Powderhorn was burned,” said Woods in surprise. “He was and he wasn’t. Nick was wounded when he started to run, but he wasn’t badly hurt until he had almost made his get-away. I believe that the boys with Swingley’s outfit had so much admiration for the fight Nick had put up in that cabin that they were shooting wild, just to let him escape. Swingley knew that. He had determined to get Nick at any cost, and he wasn’t going to see him escape. So, just when the firing lulled, and Nick was about to leap into the underbrush to safety, there came one shot, which drilled him, just as cleanly as that boy was shot, and as Hersekorn has been shot, and as all the rest of the victims of the masked horseman have been shot. There’s no telling just who did it, but Swingley was really guilty in Nick’s case, whether he fired the shot or whether he didn’t.” “Well, in the boy’s case we’ve made a start, at least, toward something tangible,” said Woods. “I’m going to turn questioner now and ask you how we are going to go about finding the man who made those finger prints.” The Texan smiled enigmatically. “That’s something we’ll have to leave to the gods,” he replied. “Meantime I want you to give me some of that powder, as I might have to do a little finger-print experimenting myself.” “Take the bottle and the brush,” replied Woods. “I believe you can carry this thing along further than I can now. I seem to be at the end of my rope.” The Texan put the bottle and the brush in his pocket. Then he carried Jimmy’s clothes and rifle back to the bedroom. Making sure that the boy was resting easily, and once more getting assurance from Uncle Billy that the patient would recover in due time, the Texan mounted his horse and rode toward town, after saying good-by to the district attorney.