"Was that Mexican gent, del Rio, in town?"
Cutter opened his eyes.
"No. I don't think so. You haven't got anything on him, have you?"
"Only what you told me. Remember that his first day in San Juan he went to Galloway like a homing pigeon."
Norton went for his horse, saddled, and rode swiftly to Las Palmas. In the mining-camp he went immediately to the office of Nate Kemble, the superintendent, whom he found cursing volubly.
"It's up to you," were the sharp words of greeting as Kemble wheeled upon the sheriff. "What the hell do you think you're for, anyway? Good Lord, man, if you can't cut the mustard, why don't you crawl out and let a man who can wear your star?"
"Easy there, Kemble," said Norton quietly. "You can do your raring and pitching after I'm gone. Tell me about it. What time did it happen?"
"It was hardly dark."
"How many men jumped you?"
"Just one. But . . ."