He warned Bill McAllister to say nothing about their having followed the trail, and then he swung Honeyboy about and headed toward the wooded country that lay to the left of the Hard Pan. His companion rode soberly back to the Double R Ranch. It was not until the following morning that McAllister saw Allen again. The boy was sitting in the sun against the wall of the bunk house, laughing and talking with two of the Double R riders. Bill McAllister tried to signal that he wished to talk to him, but Allen ignored him completely. The old wrangler edged up close to the group by the bunk house. "Yuh take that old mossback--I once heard if a gent chews regular the tobacco works up in his brain an' makes it solid," he heard Allen say. Then the boy went on and added a ribald joke. Although his name had not been mentioned, Bill McAllister knew that he was the butt at whom Allen was poking his fun, and the laughter that followed made the old wrangler's cheeks burn. He took one step forward with the intention of chastising the grinning kid. Then realization came to him--that grinning kid was Jim-twin Allen. For some reason of his own, Allen was giving the impression of disliking the old wrangler. Just the same, Allen's joke had been a cruel one, and Bill McAllister's face was flushed as he walked away. He was anything but in a good humor when he passed around the front of the ranch house and climbed into the buckboard waiting there. He was to drive Dot Reed into town that day. A few minutes later, Dot ran from the house and stepped into the buckboard. She shot a flashing smile at McAllister as she announced she wanted to drive into town. The two half-broken horses hitched to the wagon were fresh, rearing to go and trying to break loose from the two men who held them firmly by the bits. But Dot was an accomplished horsewoman, so McAllister changed places with her without any protest. She gave the word, the two men holding the reins sprang back, and the horses leaped forward at a wild gallop and went tearing down the lane. With a shout she swung them through the gate and deftly sent them dashing down the trail toward Malboro. They covered several miles before the team allowed itself to be pulled down from its headlong gait. "Yuh're lookin' real perky this mornin'," Bill McAllister said curiously. "I am--I got some good news this morning," she smiled. She studied the weather-beaten face of the man beside her. "Do yuh think Slivers was guilty of the murder?" He stiffened and thought quickly for a moment, then said cautiously, "I always figgered as Slivers warn't the kind of man to dry-gulch a gent." "He wasn't," she cried warmly. Then, after a moment, she added: "I got a letter from him this morning. He is coming back and is now trying to prove his innocence. Do yuh know that letter just appeared out of nowhere? I don't know who brought it. It said I was to trust any one who came to me an' said: 'My name's Allen; I come from Slivers Hart.'"