Dolan pulled out his watch.  “Nine o’clock,” said he.  “When did you first find Mac was gone, Kansas?”

“When I took his breakfast in less’n five minutes ago.”

“Howcome you went to the warehouse so late?”

“Well,” said Kansas, somewhat shamefacedly, “we didn’t lock him up in the warehouse till one o’clock this morning, and I figured a li’l extra sleep wouldn’t do him any harm.”

“Or a li’l extra sleep wouldn’t do yoreself any harm neither, huh?”

“Maybe I did sleep later than usual,” admitted Kansas.

“I guess you did,” said Dolan.  “I guess you did.  And Jake, too.  Told anybody else about this?”

“Only Jake.”

They had left the street while they talked, and walked down the long side wall of the warehouse.  Now they turned the corner and saw, heaped against a foundation log, a pile of freshly dug dirt.  Beyond the dirt pile gaped the mouth of a hole leading beneath the log.  The hole was quite large enough for an over-size man to crawl through without difficulty.

Judge Dolan got down on his hands and knees and peered into the hole.  Then he eased down into it headfirst and pawed his way through.

“That’s what you get for not walking in by the front door in the first place, Kansas,” grinned Racey.  “Root hog or die, feller, root hog or die.”

Swearing under his breath Kansas went to ground like a badger.  His broad shoulders did not scrape the sides of the hall.  Observing which Racey knew that it must have been an easy matter for McFluke to crawl through, for the saloon-keeper’s shoulders, wide as they were, were not as broad as those of Kansas Casey by a good inch and a half.

“That hole is four or five inches wider than necessary,” ruminated Racey, preparing to follow the deputy.  “I wonder why.  Yep, I shore wonder why.  Here they are in a harris of a hurry and they take time to make a hole big enough for two men almost.  Maybe they robbed the warehouse, too.”

He suggested as much to Dolan when he joined the latter within.

“No,” said Dolan, sweeping with a glance the stacks of cases and crates that half filled the single floor of the warehouse.  “No, I don’t think they’s anything missing.  Who’d steal truck like this here, anyway?  It ain’t valuable enough.  Where’s Jake, Kansas?”

“I left him here when I went after you,” replied the deputy.  “Guess this is him,” he added, as the front door opened.

It was the sheriff.  He shut the door behind him and advanced toward the little group gathered about the stanchion.  “This is a great note, Jake,” said Dolan, eyeing the sheriff severely.  “Can’t you make out to hang onto yore prisoners no more?”

“Hang onto hell!” snapped back the sheriff.  “Short of sleeping in here with him, I done all that could be expected.  I put Shorty Rumbold on as guard, and Shorty—­”

“Where’s Shorty?”

“Went to the Starlight for a drink.  He’ll be along in a minute.”