And between the three of them they managed to give Brick a fairly good idea of what had taken place the night before—or rather, that morning. Brick said nothing during the telling. “And I’ve been huntin’ for yore danged carcasses ever since,” declared Silent. “Uh-huh!” Brick squinted at the ruins and back at their two horses. “When did our broncs show up?” “Just a few minutes ago,” replied Grant. Brick looked over his sorrel carefully, and then removed his rifle from the scabbard. It was loaded, and with a cartridge in the chamber. He grinned at the three men, cocked the gun, pointed it at the sky and pulled the trigger. Only the dull click of the hammer came to their ears. Brick shoved the gun back into the scabbard and went over to the mule. “I’ve got to put this animile in the stable,” he told them. “He ain’t much of a vehicle, but he was all I could get.” He started away with the animal and Silent turned triumphantly to Grant and Hunter. “Somethin’ is due to drop pretty danged hard, gents. He knowed them guns had been monkeyed with, didn’t he? Grins all over his face, too. Don’t want to talk, does he? That’s Brick Davidson. He’s got somethin’ on his mind, I tell yuh.” “I hope so,” sighed Grant. “I’ve got to see Harp,” declared Silent. “Stuck with a knife, eh? By golly, they sure do use every old kind of a weapon. Next thing we know somebody will get bit.” Silent strode away, shaking his head, while Grant and Hunter crossed the street to the saloon. “Do yuh think Brick has got any ideas?” queried Slim. “I’ll betcha,” nodded Grant. “And what’s more, I’m glad that I can stand investigation.” “Holy cats, me, too!” snorted Slim. Brick turned the mule over to Jimmy Meeker and went back up the street, where he spent a little time looking at what was left of that side of the street. Miss Miller came down the street, but did not see Brick until face to face with him. She was carrying some school-books. He tipped his hat and grinned, and only real quickness on his part saved her books from falling into the ashes. She was staring at him, as he handed the books to her, and she caught his hand. “Mr. Davidson,” she faltered, “you—you are all right?” “Uh-huh. Sure I’m all right. What’s the matter?” She had turned and was staring at the tangle of burnt buildings. “Nun—nothing. I—you see, we thought that you——” “Yuh mean that folks thought we was in that fire, ma’am?” “Yes. You see, we thought—somebody said——” “That we went to bed at nine o’clock?” “Yes.” Brick grinned widely and shook his head. “Harp’s at the doctor’s office,” he volunteered. Miss Miller turned and glanced quickly in that direction. “At the doctor’s office? Why—what is the matter?” “Somebody stuck a knife in his arm last night.” “A knife? Is he——” She paused anxiously.