"Probably was a bunk house. We won't need one of those for a while, anyway. Well, will you look at that roof!" The Kid indicated another out-house. Its roof was turned directly around, so that the back was where the front should be. Not a board on it was broken.
"Looks like a crazy-house down at Coney Island!" laughed Nort. "Dick, I thought you were going to see about eats? I'm starved."
Dick walked toward the kitchen. Before he got there the aroma of cooking bacon told the waiting cowboys that the Mexican was still on the job.
"Must have the whole place full of food by this time," Bud commented. "Think I'll take another look around, Kid. Billee, you want to come along? I just want to make sure we haven't missed anything."
The two set off on a tour of inspection. It was growing dark now, and it would soon be too late to repair that night anything that was damaged.
"Guess we haven't lost much," Bud said to the veteran rancher. "We're pretty lucky, eh, Billee?"
"Sure are! We'll just look around the corner of this building, however, and then go back. I'm sort of hungry myself."
"Me too. Hope that Mex has—" Bud broke off suddenly. He peered hard at the earth in the shadow of the shack. Then he walked swiftly over.
On the ground lay the body of a man, face down. Bud grasped him gently by the arm and turned him over. On his forehead was a long cut, from which blood was flowing. Bud looked sharply at his face, then started back in surprise.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he said slowly. "It's Delton!"