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 he had to split with."

"Even at that, he ought to have had a pretty good pile, considering the number of cattle he stole from this ranch alone."

"He had the name of being a wild gambler. Manuel says he always tried to break the bank when he went to Cheyenne. It's a surprise, the number of things that quiet old Mexican knows."

"I think Thomson could have told something, As it is, there are a good many things that will never be answered in this mystery. Let's put The End to the last page of it, and close the book."

"I wish we could," said she, wistfully.

She sat gazing toward the far hills, where the sun was going down, something again in her eyes of deep-reading romance that Barrett had seen there when they stood that first morning at the gate. And still gazing away as if pursuing a dream that fled always before her, she sought his hand again.

"cc Ed?"

"Yes, palomita mia."

"Did Findlay say anything before he died?"

"He muttered something just as I got to him. His voice was indistinct."

She nestled a little closer to his side, to warm and coax the secret from him, with the beguiling softness that is world-old in a woman's way.

"Ed, Fred Grubb said he lifted his head up and spoke clearly, but he was too far away to make out the words. What did he say, Edgar? Won't you tell me, querido mio?"