As they rode along, each man kept a sharp lookout for anything that might indicate which way the rustlers had gone. There was not much chance of finding a clue until they reached Eagles, yet they could not afford to let any trace, no matter how slight, slip by unnoticed. They saw no sign of the thieves, however, and when the six riders swung into Eagles, Mr. Manley had a determined look on his face. He had been talking to Roy and Teddy about the puncher in the checkered shirt. Deciding to locate the man if he could and to find out just how much the puncher knew of the taking of the horses, Mr. Manley stopped in front of Rimor’s. “Goin’ in, boss?” Nick asked, a surprised look on his face. The boss was not the type of man to frequent a place like Rimor’s. All the men on the X Bar X knew he never took a drop of liquor. “Yes, I’m goin’ in, Nick,” Mr. Manley answered, his face set in stern lines. “There’s a bucker in here that I want to talk to. I guess you all know who I mean.” Nick nodded. Mr. Manley had told them of the cowboy in the checkered shirt. “Want any company, boss?” Gus Tripp drawled. “Just say the word, an’ we’ll come a-runnin’!” “No, thanks,” the cattle owner replied. “Teddy, hang on to this rifle for me. Don’t want to look like a stick-up artist when I go in the door. Roy, just grab this bronc’s rein, will you?” Mr. Manley slid from the saddle. “Sure you don’t want me to come with you, Dad?” Teddy asked, a bit wistfully. “I know what you’re thinkin’ of,” his father answered, as he looked up at his son. “But you’d better stay out here until I get what I want. If I need help, you’ll know it!” he added meaningly. He walked toward Rimor’s, and, pushing open the door, entered. “Hope dad doesn’t get into any trouble,” Roy said, a frown upon his face. “I’ve heard of some funny things that happened in Rimor’s.” “Now don’t you go worryin’ about your dad,” Pop Burns advised, squinting his eyes at the door through which Mr. Manley had disappeared. “He can take care of himself. There’s plenty in this town that ’ud like to see the boss in trouble, ’cause he wouldn’t agree to loadin’ them cattle scales at the corral over there. They wanted to put lead weights on the bottom of the scale so the Durhams would weigh ’bout half again what they really did. Your dad wouldn’t have nothin’ to do with the scheme.” Pop removed his hat and thwacked it in a dust-raising gesture across his leg. “But snakes! I never did see the buckaroo that could catch your dad sleepin’. He’s safe enough.” Still the veteran puncher stared intently at the door of Rimor’s. He knew of the “hombre in the checkered shirt.” He knew him for a “bad-actin’ bucker.” Nick and Gus were conversing in low tones as they sat on their restless horses. Teddy rode up and down in front of Rimer’s Place. Roy was bending over his broncho’s back, raising his left stirrup a trifle. It was hard to get used to another horse, after owning Star.