The Lone Ranger found it difficult to control his anger. Before him, sitting upright in the bed, was the man who was indirectly responsible for the murder of those Texas Rangers, whose graves were in the Gap; for Becky's death; the stabbing of Gimlet; possibly even of Rangoon and Mort. And this man was asking to be left alone! The masked man's clenched fists trembled while he fought for self-control. He must, above all, keep his voice down. He leaned forward. "I want to know," he said softly as he put the will in his pocket, "who Andrew Munson is." Bryant said, "Who?" The Lone Ranger repeated the name. Cavendish pondered. His eyes held a faraway expression as he gazed at a corner of the ceiling. "Answer me, Cavendish--who is Andrew Munson?" Bryant turned slowly, and looked at the mask. His frown was deep, and his voice without emotion. "I never heard the name before." The Lone Ranger felt something in him snap. It seemed as if this stubbornness in Bryant was more than he could bear without an outburst! The strain of the past few days; the fight against his wounds, against fatigue and pain; the bitterness of seeing good friends die ... all of these things seemed to roll together in a choking bitter mass that made him speechless. His hands reached out and gripped Cavendish. "You," he whispered in a hoarse, tense voice, "must be shown!" With strength born of desperation, the Lone Ranger lifted Bryant as if he weighed nothing, and hauled him from the bed. His unanswered question was ringing in his brain. "Who is Andrew Munson!" Chapter XXVI DISASTER GETS ORGANIZED As Wallie descended the stairs after this talk with the masked man, his nonchalance crystallized into a grim resolve that transformed his personality. He paused at the bottom of the flight and glanced up. The enigmatic man with the mask apparently had returned to Bryant's bedroom. Then Wallie opened the front door and stepped to the verandah. Half a dozen of the ranch hands were there with ill-concealed curiosity. Wallie spoke softly but without a trace of the careless ease that marked his style at other times. "Go back to whatever you were doin'," he ordered. "If you're needed, we'll send for you." "But who was that masked man with Bryant?" asked one of the men. "None of your damn business," retorted Wallie in a surly voice. "Get to work an' you'll be sent for later." He turned to another man. "Has Gimlet been buried yet?" The lanky individual addressed shook his head slowly. "We jest tossed a blanket over him," he said. "We warn't shore what yore plans was. He's still in the bunkhouse."