He puffed industriously at his pipe for a few moments; then continued: “Wa'al, he 'lowed he couldn't feed the critter fur fun. An' he couldn't work her till she war appraised an' sech, that bein' agin the law fur strays. So he jes ondertook ter be ranger an' taker-up too--the bangedest consarn in the kentry! Ef the leetle mare hed been wall-eyed, or lame, or ennything, he wouldn't hev wanted ter be ranger an' taker-up too. But she air the peartest little beastis--she war jes bridle-wise when she fust kem--young an' spry!” Luke Todd was about to ask a question, but Peters, disregarding him, persisted: “Wa'al, Tobe tuk up the beastis, an' I reckon he reported her ter hisself, bein' the ranger--the critter makes me laff--an' he hed that thar old haffen-blind uncle o' his'n an' Perkins Bates, ez be never sober, ter appraise the vally o' the mare, an' I s'pose he delivered thar certificate ter hisself, an' I reckon he tuk oath that she kem 'thout his procure_mint_ ter his place, in the presence o' the ranger.” “I reckon thar ain't no law agin the ranger's bein' a ranger an' a taker-up too,” put in one of the bystanders. “'Tain't like a sher'ff 's buyin' at his own sale. An' he hed ter pay haffen her vally into the treasury o' the county arter twelve months, ef the owner never proved her away.” “Thar ain't no sign he ever paid a cent,” said Peters, with a malicious grin, pointing at the charred remains of the court-house, “an' the treasurer air jes dead.” “Wa'al, Tobe hed ter make a report ter the jedge o' the county court every six months.” “The papers of his office air cinders,” retorted Peters. “Wa'al, then,” argued the optimist, “the stray-book will show ez she war reported an' sech.” “The ranger took mighty partic'lar pains ter hev his stray-book in that thar court-house when 'twar burnt.” There was a long pause while the party sat ruminating upon the suspicions thus suggested. Luke Todd heard them, not without a thrill of satisfaction. He found them easy to adopt. And he, too, had a disposition to theorize. “It takes a mighty mean man ter steal a horse,” he said. “Stealin' a horse air powerful close ter murder. Folkses' lives fairly depend on a horse ter work thar corn an' sech, an' make a support fur em. I hev' knowed folks ter kem mighty close ter starvin' through hevin thar horse stole. Why, even that thar leetle filly of our'n, though she hedn't been fairly bruk ter the plough, war mightily missed. We-uns hed ter make out with the old sorrel, ez air nigh fourteen year old, ter work the crap, an' we war powerful disappointed. But we ain't never fund no trace o' the filly sence she war tolled off one night las' fall a year ago.” The hawk floating above the valley and its winged shadow disappeared together in the dense glooms of a deep gorge. Luke Todd watched them as they vanished.