"I'm adoin' it!" cried Yuma, dashing through the door. In an instant he was back with Wallie under one arm, Vince beneath the other, both kicking their legs and crying at their undignified position. At the stairs, big Yuma met the Rangers coming up. "Hyar yuh are, boys," he called heartily. "Thar's a couple o' yore prisoners an' the rest are comin' pronto." He let go his grip, and the captive pair dropped to the stairs and rolled down part way, where the Texas Rangers caught them. It was then that Penny realized it: the Lone Ranger and Tonto were not there. Sometime during the conversation with big Yuma, the two had slipped away. They hadn't gone down the front stairs; the Texas Rangers had been in that part of the house. Penny hurried down the hall to her own bedroom and looked out the window. It faced the same as Bryant's window did. There were two horses at the corner of the house: Tonto's paint horse and the big white stallion. She saw the masked man in the saddle, Tonto about to mount. The girl watched as the two rode out across the Basin toward the distant Gap. She felt that something vital left her as that masked man rode away, and yet she wouldn't have called him back. "Good-by," she breathed, "good-by, my friend." The Gap yawned in the distance, a colorful opening under a westering sun. Penelope's eyes were bright as she finally saw the two horsemen disappear beyond the bend. Chapter XXX THE BADGE OF A RANGER Riding through the gap at Tonto's side, the Lone Ranger seemed lost in his thoughts. His mood was one of introspection. He had no desire for money; he never in the least desired to own land and large droves of livestock and make deals with other men. His silver mine would still remain unworked. Why, he wondered, should men want to make a trade that was to any other person's disadvantage? True, self-preservation was the first law of life, but wild things of the forest interpreted that law of nature without greed or dishonesty. They lived by the rule of what was best for the greatest number. On the other hand, because men preyed on one another, should he turn his back upon a so-called civilization? The answer came to him then, clear and unmistakable. Since he had been a boy, the strong masked man had gone to nature for his education. Now, as a man unnamed, he would try to make mankind benefit by what he had learned. Tonto studied the masked man with grave concern. He had tried to persuade his friend to halt and let his wounds be dressed, but the Lone Ranger had refused. "We'll go on," he said. "There's one more thing I want to do."