“So I throws ’em in the back. I means I puts ’em in the back. Then Mrs. Ball comes out an’ gives me another box, a small one, which she tells me to be _very_ careful of. Says it’s a present for Miss Belle here.” And Bug Eye nodded once more. “So I puts that with the dresses--Mrs. Ball tells me what was in the other boxes, so I wouldn’t sit on ’em by mistake,” he apologized. “Then I starts out. Got along fine till I reached Sanborn’s Point--you know where that is, hey Teddy? Well, I shoots her the gas, so’s I can make the hill on high. But nothin’ doin’. ’Bout half way up she stalls, an’ I shoves her in low gear. Just as I do that, I hear a yell, an’ three men with masks jumps from the bushes, guns out, business ends toward me, an’ tells me to stop!” There was a buzz of excited comment, and questions were shot at Bug Eye with machine-gun rapidity. He simply shook his head and went on. “Now, boys, give me time! I’m tellin’ it as fast as I know how. As I said, they tells me to stop. So I stops, not bein’ crazy. They pulls me from the front seat an’ pushes me into the bushes. Then they hop in, one of ’em behind the wheel, one of ’em keepin’ me covered. The other watches out the side. “An’ up they go--up the hill an’ down the other side, with flivver, dresses, present, an’ all!” “But, Bug Eye, you said something about knowing who did it!” Roy exclaimed. “Could you recognize the men?” Bug Eye looked up at his questioner. He leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. “One of them,” he said slowly and deliberately, “had a scar on the left side of his face!” “Gilly--” Teddy burst out, and then stopped. His father cast a warning glance at him. “Thought you said they had masks on?” Mr. Manley remarked. “They did; but they was only half-masks,” Bug Eye explained. “I could see the scar below.” “Do you know any one with a scar on the left side of his face?” the cattle owner questioned, looking sharply at the seated man. Before he replied, Bug Eye got to his feet. His fists were clenched. “I’ll say I do!” he roared. “An’ I got good reason, too! That’s the hombre that’s been rustlin’ our cattle, an’ you can’t tell me any different.” “Why do you say that?” Teddy asked, leaning forward. “Because I seen him!” Bug Eye exclaimed. “That’s why! I was on the range that day the bunch was cut from our herd. I saw ’em go, too, an’ made a dash for the rustlers. But they got away. There was one buckeroo who took a pot shot at me, an’ I saw him close! He was the one with the scar on his face, an’ he’s the one who stole that flivver, or I’m a Siamese twin!” “You don’t know his name, do you?” Roy demanded excitedly. “You mean what he _calls_ himself? No, I don’t! An’ I don’t want to either! I don’t need no introduction to a rattlesnake to shoot him!” In the excitement, Gus Tripp had arisen and was listening with the rest. Now he walked forward and held out his uninjured hand to the driver of the stolen flivver.