"The road's full of all sorts of tracks," said Sim, looking down, rifle in hand, from his seat. He carried the puppy again in his arms, and the hens still were expostulating in the bottom of the wagon. "Is them car tracks?" "A car could be a hundred and fifty miles away by now," said Wid. They passed on to Wid Gardner's gate. It was wide open. There were wheel tracks there, also, of some sort. The ruin of this homestead also was complete. The last stack of hay, the barn, house, all, were burned to the ground. "Well, that's all I want here," said Wid, sighing. "We'll stop at your place for a spell, Sim--that's the best thing we can do." "But look here!" he went on, his eyes running along the ground. "Been a car in here--this wasn't a wagon--it was a car! There must of been more'n one of 'em." "Uh huh," said Sim, climbing down stiffly from the wagon seat now and joining him in the task of puzzling out the trail. They followed it to a place where some ashes had been trodden in the yard. Here the wheels of the car had left their clearest record. "Not a big one," said Wid. "Ragged tire on the nigh hind wheel. See this?" They ran the trail on out to the gate, picking it up here and there, catching it plain in the loose sand which covered the gravel road bed. "Whoever done the work at my place," said Sim, "was drunk. Look how he busted down my mail box." "Look how this car was running here," assented Wid. "You set here by the gate, Sim, and hold the team. I want to run up the road a piece to where the timber trail turns up the canyon." "Sure, Wid," said Sim. "I can't walk good." It was half an hour or more before his friend had returned from his hasty scout further along the road, and by that time it was dark. "That's where they went, Sim," said Wid Gardner. "I seen the track of that busted tire plain in the half-dried mud, little ways up the trail. Whoever it was done this, has went right up there. When we get a few of the fellers together we'll start. To-morrow morning, early." "To-morrow!" said Sim. "Why, Wid----" Wid Gardner laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "It's the best we can do, Sim," said he. Without more speech they drove once more along Sim Gage's lane. As they approached the entrance, Sim turned. "Hold up a minute, Wid," said he, "while I look over here where the wagon was tied." He limped across the road, bent to examine the marks dimly visible in the half darkness. "Look-a-here," said he, "there's been a car here too--the same car, with the busted tire! They come up in that wagon from my place after they burned me out. They must of taken her out of the wagon and put her in the car, and like you say, they're maybe a couple of hundred miles away by now. Oh, my God A'mighty, Wid, what has you and me done to that pore girl!" Wid only laid the large hand again on his shoulder. "It'll be squared," said he.