Perhaps it was none of his business, and perhaps he should have been content to take the coin to the house and leave it there, so that the owner would see it. But something recurred to him; he remembered that he had felt a slight jerk as he hauled up the bucket, and his curiosity was aroused. He glanced down the well; he saw that a ladder was set there. He climbed down until he was close to the surface of the water. There, set in a hole that had evidently been purposely cut out for the purpose, was a bag full of coins similar to the one that he had hauled up to the top. A slight rent in one corner, through which a coin was peeping, showed him how his bucket had caused one to drop in. He banished all further idea of considering himself inquisitive.
"There's something rocky about this," he said. "No one would hide gold down a well if there wasn't something up. There's a bank at Elk Creek; why wasn't it put there?"
He climbed to the surface of the ground again. That there was no one around was apparent; the noise he had made would have been sure to attract any one who had been in the house. His curiosity was now fully aroused. He thought nothing of entering the shack, and of examining its contents. He turned everything upside down in his search, but nothing that would go to confirm any of his half-aroused suspicions could he see. He was on the point of resuming his journey when a loose board in the floor creaked under his foot. He lifted it, to expose a small cavity, down which he felt with his hand. Something cold and hard met his fingers, which he withdrew. It was a branding iron. That would not have struck him as being at all out of the way if a casual glance had not shown him that the iron bore a cup and spur—the brand of the ranch from which he had just been discharged. He was puzzled. He knew that all the irons that belonged to that ranch were in the charge of the foreman, being delivered to the branders at each round-up. No man was allowed to carry one except on these occasions, and the next round-up would not take place for more than a month.
"Can't make head or tail of it," muttered the lad. "Is it that—— By thunder, I have it! There are horse thieves around here! They must have started their work since last round-up, and it hasn't been found out yet. They've been stealing unbranded colts, and been putting a mark on 'em. But why should they use the cup and spur? It gets me, sure."
And that was as far as he could get to a solution of the problem.
"I don't know whether there's anything in it, but I found this iron in a shack about five miles north of here," said Ted. "Seems to me there's something fishy about it, though I might be mistaken."
He was speaking to the sheriff at Elk Creek, who took the iron and examined it closely. No light of understanding dawned on that worthy's face for the moment.
"Guess it must be an old one that's been thrown away," was all he could suggest.
"It doesn't look too old," returned the lad. "It's new enough to make a pretty good brand yet, anyway. Looks to me as though it wasn't being used fairly. Hobson, the foreman of the Cup and Spur, should have all these locked up at this time of the year. Have there been any horses shipped away from this district lately?"