“Are you sure?”

“Listen, senor.  Men in cities remember the faces they see; I have lived all my life among horses, and to me they are like men.  I seldom forget.”

“Very well.  Tad says Urbina has gone to Pueblo to get married, so I’m going to follow him, and I shall be there when he arrives.”

“Bueno!  Another matter”—­Ricardo hesitated—­“your bonita—­the pretty mare.  She is buried deep.”

“I’m glad,” said Dave.  “I think I shall sleep better for knowing that.”

Since the recent rain had rendered the black valley roads impassable for automobiles, Dave decided to go to Pueblo by rail, even though it was a roundabout way, and that afternoon found him jolting over the leisurely miles between Jonesville and the main line.  He was looking forward to a good night’s sleep when he arrived at the junction; but on boarding the north-bound through train he encountered Judge Ellsworth, who had just heard of the Garza killing, and of course was eager for details.  The two sat in the observation-car talking until a late hour.

Knowing the judge for a man of honor and discretion.  Dave unburdened himself with the utmost freedom regarding his suspicions of Ed Austin.

Ellsworth nodded.  “Yes, Ed has thrown in with the Rebel junta in San Antone, and Tad Lewis is the man they use to run arms and supplies in this neighborhood.  That’s why he and Ed are so friendly.  Urbina is probably your cattle thief, but he has a hold over Ed, and so he rode to Las Palmas when he was pursued, knowing that no jury would convict him over Austin’s testimony.”

“Do you think Ed would perjure himself?” Dave asked.

“He has gone clean to the bad lately; there’s no telling what he’ll do.  I’d hate to see you crowd him, Dave.”

“They call you the best lawyer in this county because you settle so many cases out of court.”  The judge smiled at this.  “Well, here’s a chance for you to do the county a good turn and keep Ed Austin out of trouble.”

“How?”

“The prosecuting attorney is a new man, and he wants to make a reputation by breaking up the Lewis gang.”

“Well?”

“He intends to cinch Urbina, on Ricardo’s and my testimony.  You’re a friend of Austin’s; you’d better tip him to set his watch ahead a few hours and save himself a lot of trouble.  The prosecuting attorney don’t like Ed any too well.  Understand?”

The judge pondered this suggestion for a moment. “‘Young Ed’ is a queer fellow.  Once in a while he gets his neck bowed.”

“So do I,” Law declared, quietly.  “He treated me like a hobo—­sent me to the kitchen for a hand-out.  That sticks.  If I hadn’t tamed down considerably these late years, I’d have—­wound him up, right there.”

From beneath his drooping lids Ellsworth regarded the Ranger curiously.  “You have a bad temper, haven’t you?”

“Rotten!”

“I know.  You were a violent boy.  I’ve often wondered how you were getting along.  How do you feel when you’re—­that way?”