In a flash Johnny caught Traynor’s idea. If, as the boy had every reason to suspect, old Kent was the man Traynor had come to square accounts with, then he had the answer to the man’s every movement for a week before his death. That is, of course, excepting those two mysterious days on the Reservation. This coming back to Winnemucca was for three purposes: to see the girl, to settle with Kent, and, obviously, to replenish his funds, inasmuch as the letters from Flagstaff were from a Flagstaff bank. Traynor had told Vinnie, the Basque, that he would not stay the night in Standing Rock. His one idea was to get back to Winnemucca by the sixth. Going on this thought, Johnny saw that the man’s presence in Standing Rock had been but incidental to his return here. But he had been seen. Kent must have kept out of his way, and after, or during supper, had slipped up to Traynor’s room and shot him. Wasn’t there sense in every line of this reasoning? Didn’t all of the dozen and one little incidents since the crime confirm the facts? Johnny wondered if he would find out anything in Elk Valley among the Indians, to make him change his mind. The evidence he held was circumstantial. Sometimes it lies. No matter. There was nothing left for him to do but to go through with this hunt, make the trip to Elk Valley and keep his own counsel. In no other way could he serve Molly better. He had bungled things or else he would have avoided this scene with her. Her excitement and nervousness were due to him. He detested himself for having alarmed her. Instead of the pleasant half hour he had looked forward to, he had frightened and hurt her. The thing to do now was to still any rising suspicion she might have and get her started for home. So he made small of Molly’s deductions. “Traynor may have been a friend of your father’s,” he said to her. “Or again just another coincidence. As you rightly said, things like that don’t prove a thing. Wasn’t nothin’ else planted a doubt in my mind, and I see how downright senseless it was now.” “Are you being honest with me, Johnny?” “Of course. Why don’t you take the night train to Argenta? Matt will see that you git home. Won’t be no trouble sendin’ your horse out to the ranch.” “I guess that would be the best thing to do. But you, Johnny, what are you going to do?” “Goin’ over to the Injun country tomorrow.” “Elk Valley? What strange business is taking you there?” “Crosbie Traynor. I aim to find out who killed him. He was on the Reservation two days just before he came into the Rock. I reckon I’ll find out who had it in for him over there. I owe it to you to clear up this thing.” “I wish I could go with you, but of course I can’t. Will you go in by the way of the ranch? It’s not much farther than by way of the North Fork.”