"I see," nodded Percy. "And what does your discovery amount to? Do you connect this chap with the robbery of Sam Crisp's bag of gold?"
"Well," returned Silk, "it's a kind of proof that some one was prowling around the ranch in the middle of the night. Certainly he appears to have wanted to keep his visit a secret. But maybe Sam will explain. I see he's waiting to receive us."
The ranch master met them on the grassy clearing in front of his dwelling.
"Glad to see you, Sergeant," he began. "Say, if you'd happened along a few hours earlier you might have had the job of taking a thief red-handed."
"Indeed?" said Silk, assuming ignorance of his meaning.
Sam Crisp then proceeded to tell him of the theft of his bag of gold, showing that he had not the slightest doubt that Charlie Fortescue was the culprit.
"Did you wish to give him into custody?" the sergeant inquired.
"Dunno 'bout that," demurred Sam. "You see, having proved him guilty, I kinder took the law into my own hands and fired the ungrateful scoundrel off the premises. In a way, I'm satisfied. I've escaped having a thief and a liar for son-in-law. I've saved Dora from having a mean, low-down impostor for husband. And I've got possession of the stolen money that he'd hidden away in the bottom of his trunk. No, I'm well rid of him, and I don't reckon that his being in prison would do me any sort of good."
Sergeant Silk looked at him keenly.