He had not gone far along the fence on the west side of the chute when he noticed something which aroused his curiosity. All the ground between two of the posts had been trampled up by sheep. Of course the sheep had been crowded pretty close up to the fence on both sides at the time of the counting, but this was different. There had been no rain since the sheep came in and the distinct, continuous trail could be plainly seen between the two posts. The ground was not trampled up that way between any of the other posts. Further examination showed that one of the posts was loose and that all wires had been cut at that point and renailed.
This was a new piece of evidence which Scott had almost missed. Evidently Dugan had been afraid that Scott would get back from that fake fire before he had time to get all the sheep through the chute and had opened up that hole in the fence to hurry things along. He had a pretty clear idea now of the plan the stockmen had used and just how they had worked it. He recognized now that Dawson was the brains of the whole ring and that it was his smooth craft which had made it work. No detail which could be foreseen had been overlooked.
There was a rattling of loose stones down the cañon trail and the supervisor appeared. He greeted Scott cordially. “You seem to have rounded up these fellows in pretty quick time,” he remarked looking keenly at Scott.
“Yes,” Scott replied modestly, “I was lucky enough to stumble onto it.”
“I hope for your own sake and that of the service that you are not mistaken in your estimate. It takes a good deal of experience to estimate sheep accurately in the open.”
“That is the reason I had Baxter do it for me,” Scott replied.
“Oh,” exclaimed Mr. Ramsey, evidently relieved, “he knows if any one does. When did you get him to do it?”
“The day after the sheep came in. I tried to count them and could not do it, but when I saw the bands in his district they looked so much smaller than mine that I asked him to come over and estimate them.”
Just then Dawson rode up. “Well, Burton,” he said when the first greetings were over, “don’t you feel a little nervous?”
“Not in the least,” Scott replied confidently.