Unconsciously the boy’s muscles tightened and he drove his paddle in more forcibly, sending a shower of spray over his brother, who was seated on the bottom of the canoe behind him. “Hey, take it easy!” Roy yelled. He brushed the water from the back of his neck and demanded: “Why so strong all of a sudden, Teddy?” “Just thinking,” Teddy murmured. Roy got a side view of his brother’s face as the boy turned his body at the end of the stroke, and the older lad frowned. Was Teddy getting the “willies” now? There must have been some reason for those set lines around the mouth and those tiny knots of muscle just above the jaw bone. Roy knew his brother well enough to be sure that the younger lad’s thoughts were reflected in his face as though it were a mirror. “What’s on your mind, boy?” Roy asked softly. “Nothing--yes there is, too!” Teddy burst out. He ceased from his labor and rested the dripping paddle on the bow of the canoe. “I’m worried about mother and Belle and the others. Where do you suppose The Pup is now?” “Headin’ for the Border, an’ goin’ strong!” Bug Eye interrupted. “That waddy won’t let no grass grow under his feet. He’s afraid he might be pushin’ it up a little later if he does. Yore dad ain’t got much use fer sneak thieves an’ rustlers.” “You mean he wouldn’t stay in this part of the country?” Teddy asked eagerly. “Not a chance,” Roy answered. “Is there, Pop? Don’t you think The Pup will head south and try to make the Border?” “That’s my idea of it,” the veteran said decidedly. He mopped the top of his shiny head with a huge red handkerchief. “This is some hot work! Yep, I reckon Marino is pretty scarce around here now. Why, Teddy? Why was you askin’? Hopin’ to run acrost him?” “Not any,” the boy said shortly, resuming his paddling. “But--well, you know how I got this.” He drew from his belt the knife he had forced from The Pup’s hand when he had met him near the corral. At the last moment, impelled by a motive he himself could not explain, the boy had brought the weapon with him. Now he turned it over and gazed at the initials burned in the handle. “The man who carries one of these is the kind you need eyes in the back of your head to watch. And I was afraid he might come back to the ranch some night, loaded and sore. Nick might not be handy. I wish--”