“So do I. And how about that horse?”

“Well, next day I was fixin’ up the machine and foolin’ around—­that machine belonged to them tourists that the fella stuck up—­when along about sundown Buck Hardy comes swellin’ up to me and tells me I’m under arrest.  He couldn’t prove a darned thing if I hadn’t said I done the job.  But, anyhow, he didn’t see it my way, so I borrowed Waring’s horse and come down this way.  Everybody saw me take the horse.  You can’t call that stealin’.”

“Did Hardy ride after you?”

“Yes, sir.  But he was so far behind I couldn’t hear what he wanted.  That big buckskin is a wonder.  I wish I owned him.”

Torrance mentally patched the fragments of evidence together.  He decided that a young man who could capture a holdup man, best the notorious High Chin in a fight, repair a broken automobile, turn a prisoner loose, and make his own escape all within the short compass of forty-eight hours was a rather capable person in a way.  And Torrance knew by Lorry’s appearance and manner that he was still on the verdant side of twenty.  If such a youth chose to turn his abilities in the right direction he might accomplish much.  Lorry’s extreme frankness satisfied Torrance that the boy had told the truth.  He would give him a chance.

“Do you know Bud Shoop?” queried the supervisor.

“No, sir.  I know what he looks like.  He’s been to our hotel.”

“Well, you might look him up.  He may be out of town.  Possibly he is up at his homestead on the Blue Mesa.  Tell Mr. Shoop that I sent you to him.  He will understand.  But you will have to square yourself with the authorities before I can put you to work.”

“Yes, sir.  But I don’t aim to ride back to Stacey just because I know where it is.  If they want me, they can find me.”

“That is your affair.  When your slate is clear—­”

“Mr. Waring to see you,” said the clerk, poking his head through the doorway.

Torrance stepped out and greeted Waring heartily.  Lorry was surprised; both to see his father and to learn that Torrance and he were old friends.

“I saw this horse as I rode up, and I took a fancy to him,” said Waring, after having nodded to Lorry.  “Sorry to bother you, Torrance.”

“Here’s the man you’ll bother, I think,” said Torrance, indicating Lorry.  “He’s riding that horse.”

Lorry grinned.  “Want to trade horses?”

“I don’t know.  Is that your horse?”

“Nope.  I borrowed him.  Is that your horse?” And he indicated Gray Leg.

“No.  I borrowed him.”

Torrance laughed.  “The buckskin seems to be a pretty fair horse.”

“Then I ought to get somethin’ to boot,” suggested Lorry.

“How much?” laughed Waring.

“Oh, I don’t know.  You’ll find that buckskin a mighty likely rambler.”

Waring turned to Torrance.  “You’ll witness that we made this trade, John?”