Some went far down into the bottom of the cañon, while the others examined places far to the sides of where the stage had been wrecked. It was almost daylight when the last of the searchers arrived at the grade, tired and discouraged. “By gosh, she’s not be here!” panted Le Blanc. “Not’ing on de hill. H’even de brush is clear h’off. I’m h’even dig a little.” They mounted their horses and rode back toward Marlin City, with every man still straining his eyes for a sight of the boy. The women of the town were waiting for them, hoping that their search had not been in vain. Mrs. Wesson had a mighty pot of coffee waiting for them and they attacked it with a will. Doctor Meyers drew Brick aside and spoke softly— “Has any one ever threatened Baldy Malloy, Brick?” “Threatened him?” Brick gulped some strong coffee. “Not that I know of, doc. Why do you ask?” “He was shot.” “Shot?” “Yes. When Baldy Malloy drove off the Elk Cañon grade, he was dead, Brick. There was a bullet through his heart.” Brick’s jaw set tightly and the hand that held the cup of coffee dropped to his side, spilling the fluid onto the floor. “He was shot before he went off the grade, eh? Shot through the heart.” “Yes. It was either a revolver bullet, or possibly a rifle, fired at long range. The bullet was still in him, Brick. It is a .45 caliber.” Brick glanced quickly around. The men were busy with the coffee and none of them had heard what the doctor had told. “Doc, can yuh keep this a secret?” queried Brick. “Mebbe we better let Harp in on it. Can yuh do this? It might be easier that-a-way.” “You are the sheriff,” replied the doctor softly. “I am ready to do as you say. Every one thinks that Malloy accidentally ran off the grade. We can always exhume the body, you know.” “All right,” nodded Brick. “And I’m much obliged, doc.” “That’s all right, Brick. And there was no sign of the child?” Brick shook his head wearily and went back after more hot coffee. Miss Miller and Mrs. Wesson were talking to Harp, who was too tired to even be bashful. But they were not joking him now. The men gradually drifted away to get a few hours sleep before renewing the search. Brick, Harp and Silent went down to the office, with the intention of going to bed, but they had only been there a few minutes when Bill Grant came in, accompanied by the stranger who had met Brick and Harp on the road. “Hello, Brick,” greeted Grant. “I want yuh to meet Mr. Santel.” “I’ve met the sheriff before,” grinned Santel. “In fact I owe him a sack of tobacco.” Brick introduced Santel to Harp and Silent. “Can we talk to yuh alone for a few minutes, Brick?” asked Grant. “Sure thing.” Brick grabbed his hat and followed them outside. They walked up the street a short distance and stopped. “Mr. Santel is the man we told yuh about, Brick,” said Grant. “The detective?” Santel smiled.