The little burros, placid and faithful, went on and saw the pageant of the dawn from the hidden gateway in the Wall, crept down the Rockface, single file, and at their accustomed hour stood at their accustomed place before the Golden Cloud. It was Wan Lee, Old Pete's _bete noir_, who found them there and ran shouting through the crowd of belated players in the saloon's big room, his pig-tail flying, his almond eyes popping, to upset a table and batter on his master's door and scream that the "bullos" were here, "allesame lone," and that there was blood all spattered on the hind one's rump! CHAPTER VIII WHITE ELLEN So old Pete, the snow-packer, had paid the price of gallantry. The bullet he had averted from Tharon Last's young head that day in the Golden Cloud but sheathed itself to wait for him. All the Valley knew it. Not a soul beneath the Rockface but knew beyond a shadow of a doubt who, or whose agents, had followed Pete that night to the Canon Country. Whispers went flying about as usual, and as usual nothing happened. When the news of this came to Last's Holding the mistress sat down at the big desk in the living room, laid her tawny head on her arms and wept. There was in her a new softness, a new feeling of misery--as if one had wantonly killed a rollicking puppy before her eyes. Those tears were Old Pete's requiem. She dried them quickly, however, and set another notch to her score with Courtrey. It was then that the waiting game ceased abruptly. Tharon, riding on El Rey, went in to Corvan. She tied the horse at the Court House steps and went boldly in to the sheriff's office. Behind her were Billy, like her shadow, and the sane and quiet Conford. Steptoe Service, fat and important, was busy at his desk. His spurs lay on a table, his wide hat beside them. The star of his office shone on his suspender strap. "Step Service," said the girl straightly, "when are you goin' to look into this here murder?" Service swung round and shot an ugly look at her from his small eyes. "Have already done so," he said, "ben out an' saw to th' buryin'!" Tharon gasped. "Buried him already? How dared you do it?" "Say," said Service, banging a fist on his table, "I'm th' sheriff of Menlo County, young woman. I ordered him buried." "Where?" "What's it to you?" "Was Jim Banner there?" "Jim Banner's sick in bed--got th' cholery morbus." Tharon's eyes began to blaze. "Bah!" she snapped, "th' time's ripe! Come on, boys," and she whirled from the Court House. As she ran across the street to where the Finger Marks were tied, she came face to face with Kenset on Captain. Her face was red from brow to throat, her voice thick with rage.