Bill laughed. "I was," he said. "I ain't mistaken—I brung him there an' handed him over—when I was Dep'ty Shur'ff, out San Diego way. He done got a lot o' somebody else's sheep mixed up with his'n. He was one lucky guy to get off with four years in prison—'Judge Lynch' come near settin' on the case. Oh, I know him, all right," said Bill, "an' I reckon he must of knowed me! I noticed he wasn't exactly easy in his mind when he set there jes' now. An' I think I know this Ross, too."
"Humph!" said Sherwood, reflectively, "that kind of association doesn't speak very well for Mr. Ross anyway. What do you think we better do? I understand that our man Walker reports that he came across a place where a bunch of our cattle had been stampeded. He followed the trail, but lost it at the creek—couldn't pick it up anywhere. I don't suppose it could have been a grizzly?" he asked.
"Grizzly, nuthin'!" said Bill. "It had been rainin' shortly before the cattle was drove off, an' the' was no sign of a grizzly's tracks—I rode out there an' seen it myself," said Bill with positiveness. Then he added: "But the' was horses' hoofs! I ain't heard of no grizzlies wearin' iron shoes—not this summer, I ain't! Besides, if they was stampeded, they'd of scattered more. Them beeves kep' together—they was drove!"
"And you think——" Mr. Sherwood paused, and Bill nodded his head:
"Jest a plain case o' rustlin'—nuthin' else to it!" and Bill spat disgustedly.
There was a silence for a moment or so while the two men pondered the matter, and Whitey waited almost breathlessly for what would follow. Here was a mystery—a vital ranch mystery—and he was in the thick of it! He had tried to imagine the situation, many times, when he had read of such things in books; and now he was face to face with it. Suddenly the thought came to him that here was something for him to solve, and he instantly determined that he would take a hand in the game—though he was wise enough (or, perhaps foolish enough) to keep this determination to himself. He knew that once he broached the subject to his father, he would receive positive orders to keep his hands off; but, in the absence of those orders, he intended to "mix in." In that way, he was going to justify himself in his own mind!
Finally Mr. Sherwood broke the silence: "Does the creek run near Ross's ranch?" he asked.
"No," said Jordan, "it's quite a ways from his line. His ranch is way down on the Elkhorn—this is a branch thet empties into the Elkhorn a few miles below where we lost the trail. It's too deep there fer cattle to ford; besides, there wasn't no place on the opposite bank where we found they'd come out—not fer two er three mile down—where she empties into the Elkhorn. We went over the hull ground careful."
"Do you think they could have been drowned?" asked Sherwood. "If they went into the river and didn't come out, that would seem to be the only alternative," he added.
"Mebbe!" said Jordan, enigmatically. The two men rose and walked toward the corral, much to Whitey's disgust. And though he tried to follow and hear the rest, he was not able to do so. But strong in his bosom the mystery burned, and more than ever he was determined to conduct an independent investigation, taking Injun, of course, into partnership.