"The other one's making a getaway, Mr. McKibben," sang out Chub excitedly. "He took one of the horses and—— Holy smoke, watch him go!"
The sheriff turned and flashed a look after the retreating horseman.
"I can follow him," said Clip. "I'll use your horse."
"Let him go," answered McKibben. "He's only the wood-hauler. This is the man I want. Take the girl into the house, King," he added. "You might ride my horse to the corral, Clipperton, and get a doctor."
"Do you know anything about this girl?" asked Matt, looking down at the head that was lying limply over his arm.
"Not a thing; but I'll bet money there's crooked work of some kind going on. The girl didn't belong with these Mexicans."
"If they hadn't tied her to the wagon," said Matt, "she would have got clear of that accident without being so badly hurt."
"We'll get Juan in the sweat-box and find out about it."
"What have you pinched the greaser for, Mr. McKibben?" asked Chub.
"Don't get so curious, McReady," parried the sheriff. "Hitch those three horses to the fence, and I'll send some one after them and the wreck of the wagon. Do what you can for the girl, King."