“Ye-e-eah?” Brick’s red mane of hair lifted slightly, as he inhaled deeply to control his temper. “Yeah,” nodded Grant. “Of course he won’t interfere with yore office in any way, Brick. You jist go along like you’ve been goin’, and let him work it out in his own way. Them detectives _sabe_ criminals.” Brick grinned in spite of his anger. A wave of crime had swept across the Sun Dog country in the past few weeks, causing the sheriff’s office to ride the hoofs off their horses, but without results. It began with the hold-up of the Red Hill stage, when the bandits had stolen the treasure-box, which held several bars of gold, from the Red Hill mine. A few days later the Redrock stage was robbed, netting the robbers several hundred dollars. Then, to cap the climax, two masked men entered the bank at Silverton and forced the cashier to hand them over five thousand dollars. And they had left no clues. Descriptions varied until Brick was of the opinion that the jobs had been done by three different outfits. The driver of the Red Hill stage swore that there were only two men. One was a big man and the other rather below medium height. The tall man was the spokesman. In the Redrock robbery, the driver declared that there were two men, one rather tall and slender, the other medium-sized. The medium-sized man was the spokesman. And the cashier of the bank, frightened almost into a panic, could not be positive that there were two or three men, but he did know that the slim one did the talking. The peculiar feature of the bank robbery was the fact that a fire had started in a shack down at the other end of the town, and that while every one was down there, trying to put out the fire, the robbery had taken place. No one had seen the robbers enter or leave, except the cashier, who admitted that he was so frightened that he did not know which way they went after leaving the bank, nor whether they were on foot or mounted. And now the county commissioners were employing a professional thief-catcher. Brick reshaped his cigaret and smiled. “He’ll prob’ly catch ’em,” Brick mused aloud. “Y’betcha!” Sam Leach got to his feet, indicating that as far as he was concerned the meeting was over. The others got to their feet as a man entered the doorway and halted just inside. It was “Harp” Harris, the deputy sheriff. Harp was about two inches over six feet in height, but so thin that he looked much taller. His face was set in lines which combined both hope and despair—with despair predominating. His mouth was wide, his nose thin and almost transparent, while his ears grew at right angles to his face, giving him a perpetual listening expression. Harp squinted at the three commissioners and shifted his eyes to Brick. “Havin’ a li’l party, Brick?” he asked softly. Harp was not any too popular with the commissioners. “Democrat,” replied Brick, grinning.