"While observing you as you talked with the girl," Byrne said, "it occurred to me that you were holding information from her. The exact nature of that information I cannot state, but it is reasonable to deduce that you could, at the present moment, name the place where the man for whom Mr. Cumberland and his daughter wait is now located." Buck Daniels made no reply, but he returned to his chair and slumped heavily into it, staring at the little doctor. And Byrne realised with a thrill of pleasure that he was not afraid of death. "I may further deduct," said the doctor, "that you will go in person to the place where you know this man may be found and induce him to come to this ranch." The silent anger of Daniels died away. He smiled, and at length he laughed without mirth. "Doc," he said, "if you knew where there was a gun, would that make you want to put it up agin your head and pull the trigger?" But the doctor proceeded inexorably with his deductions: "Because you are aware, Mr. Daniels, that the presence of this man may save the life of Mr. Cumberland, a thought, to be sure, which might not be accepted by the medical fraternity, but which may without undue exaggeration devolve from the psychological situation in this house." "Doc," said Daniels huskily, "you talk straight, and you act straight, and I think you are straight, so I'll take off the bridle and talk free. I know where Whistling Dan is--just about. But if I was to go to him and bring him here I'd bust the heart of Kate Cumberland. D'you understand?" His voice lowered with an intense emotion. "I've thought it out sideways and backwards. It's Kate or old Joe. Which is the most important?" The doctor straightened in the chair, polished his glasses, and peered once more at the cowpuncher. "You are quite sure, also, that the return of this man, this strange wanderer, might help Mr. Cumberland back to health?" "I am, all right. He's sure wrapped up in Whistlin' Dan." "What is the nature of their relations; what makes him so oddly dependent upon the other?" "I dunno, doc. It's got us all fooled. When Dan is here it seems like old Cumberland jest nacherally lives on the things Dan does and hears and sees. We've seen Cumberland prick up his ears the minute Dan comes into the room, and show life. Sometimes Dan sits with him and tells him what he's been doin'--maybe it ain't any more than how the sky looks that day, or about the feel of the wind--but Joe sits with his eyes dreamin', like a little kid hearin' fairy stories. Kate says it's been that way since her dad first brought Dan in off'n the range. He's been sort of necessary to old Joe--almost like air to breathe. I tell you, it's jest a picture to see them two together." "Very odd, very odd," brooded the doctor, frowning, "but this seems to be an odd place and an odd set of people. You've no real idea why Dan left the ranch?"