Circle O was reached before dark, and Stacy Brown, who had gained entrance to the ranch-house, which he had reached only a few hours before, met them at the door. The “fat boy” was thin, there were hollows in his cheeks, and a livid mark on the left cheek where a bullet had left its trail.
Stacy had been hunted all the way across the mountains, and shot at on several occasions, but had always outwitted his pursuers until finally they gave up the man-hunt and returned to the Diamond Bar ranch. Hungry and worn out and after considerable suffering he finally reached Circle O only to find it deserted and the Overland camp broken up.
Now, however, that the opportunity was at hand to glorify his own achievements, Stacy Brown made the most of it, and out in the yard in front of the ranch-house, he declaimed loudly on his own prowess in fooling his pursuers.
Stacy was still engaged in this before an interested audience when a rider approached from the valley, but no one gave heed to him, believing him to be one of Bindloss’s men. The rider dismounted at the stable and walked towards the group, his eyes fixed on Chunky. He halted just behind the boy and stood regarding him frowningly.
“Well, sir, what is it?” demanded Joe Bindloss sharply.
Stacy, in the midst of a loud boast, turned to look at the man behind him. The words died on his lips as he came face to face with the newcomer. It was Skip, the fellow on whose head Stacy had brought down the wagon stake at the Diamond Bar ranch.
The Overland boy’s face grew a shade paler, and he made a move as if to run, but the pressure of a revolver against his stomach sent the shivers up and down his back and literally froze him.
“Here! Here!” roared Joe Bindloss. “What do ye mean?”
“This feller’s a hoss thief. We kotched him on a hoss that had been rustled from the Diamond Bar ranch. He got away by cloutin’ me over the haid. We follered, but he was too slippery fer us. I been lookin’ fer him ever since, an’ now I’ve got him!”
“Put down thet gun, pard!” drawled Sam Conifer, and Skip found himself gazing at the muzzle of the old guide’s weapon. “Put it down, I says!”