"Why, yes; the Cup and Spur outfit sent a bunch of spring colts East only six weeks ago. Struck me as they were rather young to go, but I didn't trouble about it. 'Twas none of my business."
"But Mr. Knowles, the boss of that ranch, doesn't believe in shipping away so soon."
The sheriff began to understand.
"I see what you're driving at now, kid," he said, "and I'm beginning to agree with you. Those colts that were shipped away weren't Cup and Spur stock at all! They were rustled and branded with that mark, so's suspicion wouldn't fall on any one. No one would believe Knowles capable of stealing, and no questions would be asked."
"Well, that point's pretty well settled," went on Ted. "Next thing is, who's rustling 'em?"
"Got me again," said the sheriff laconically.
"Well, what do you say if we do a little work? I've got an idea that may be worth something. Let's go back to the Cup and Spur Ranch and make inquiries."
The sheriff complied with him. Together they rode southward, Ted having found his horse when he arrived at Elk Creek. The first man they met on their arrival at their destination was Hobson.
"What?" shouted the foreman. "Back again already? Didn't I tell you to get out?"
"You did," said Ted coolly. "Also, you said something about my being no good on a ranch. What do you say to a foreman who leaves branding irons lying about when they ought to be safely put away?"