“Scatter!” he commanded; “an’ rustle him up, if he’s anywhere around! Hey!” he shouted at a slender, rat-faced individual. “You an’ Darbey search the house! Two more of you take a look at the bunkhouse—and the rest of you nose around the other buildin’s. Keep your eyes peeled, an’ if he goes to gettin’ fresh, plug him plenty!” “Why, what is wrong?” demanded Marion. Her face was pale with indignation, for she resented the authoritative tone used by Keats as much as she resented the thought of the two men entering the house unbidden. Keats’s face flamed with sudden passion. With a snap of his wrist he drew his gun and trained its muzzle on Bud. “Wrong enough!” he snapped. He was looking at Bud while answering Miss Harlan’s question. “I’m after Squint Taylor, an’ I’m goin’ to get him—that’s all! An’ if you folks go to interferin’ it’ll be the worse for you!” Marion stiffened and braced herself in the doorway, her eyes wide with dread and her lips parted to ask the question that Bud now spoke, his voice drawling slightly with sarcasm. “Taylor, eh?” he said. “What you wantin’ with Taylor?” “I’m wantin’ him for murderin’ Larry Harlan!” snapped Keats. Bud gulped, drew a deep breath and went pale. He looked at Marion, and saw that the girl was terribly moved by Keats’s words. But neither the girl nor Bud spoke while Keats dismounted, crossed the porch, and stopped in front of the door, which was barred by the girl’s body. “Get out of the way—I’m goin’ in!” ordered Keats. The girl moved aside to let him pass, and as he crossed the threshold she asked, weakly: “How do you—how do they know Mr. Taylor killed Larry Harlan?” Keats turned on her, grinning mirthlessly. “How do we know anything?” he jeered. “Evidence—that’s what—an’ plenty of it!” Keats vanished inside, and Bud, his eyes snapping with the alert glances he threw around him, slowly backed away from the porch toward the stable. As he turned, after backing several feet, he saw Marion walk slowly to a rocker that stood on the porch, drop weakly into it and cover her face with her hands. Gaining the stable, Bud worked fast; throwing a saddle and bridle upon King, the speediest horse in the Arrow outfit, excepting Spotted Tail. With movements that he tried hard to make casual, but with an impatience that made his heart pound heavily, he got King out and led him to the rear of the stable. Some of Keats’s men were running from one building to another; but he was not Taylor, and they seemed to pay no attention to him, beyond giving him sharp glances. Passing behind the blacksmith-shop, Bud heard a voice saying: “Dead or alive, Keats says; an’ they’d admire to have him dead. I heard Carrington tellin’ Keats!”