“I think, dearest,” said Molly, raising her head from his shoulder some twenty minutes later, “that it’s light enough now to see what’s in the sack.”

So, in the brightness of a splendid dawn, snugly hidden on the tree-covered flank of one of the Frying Pan Mountains, they opened the bran sack and went through every paper it contained.

There were deeds, mortgages, legal documents of every description.  They found the Dale mortgage, but they did not find the release alleged to have been signed by Dale immediately prior to his death.

“Of course that mortgage is recorded,” said Racey, dolefully, staring at the pile of papers, “so destroyin’ that won’t help us any.  The release he’s carrying with him, and I don’t see anything—­”

“Here’s one we missed,” said Molly Dale in a hopeless tone, picking up a slip of paper from where it had fallen behind a saddle.  The slip of paper was folded several times.  She opened it and spread it out against her knee.  “Why, how queer,” she muttered.

“Huh?” In an instant Racey was looking over her shoulder.

When both had thoroughly digested the meaning of the writing on that piece of paper they sat back and regarded each other with wide eyes.

“This ought to fix things,” breathed Molly.

“Fix things!” cried Racey.  “Cinch!  We’ve got him like that.”

He snapped his fingers joyfully.

Molly reached for the bran sack.  “You only shook it out,” she said. 
“I’m going to turn it inside out.  Maybe we’ll find something else.”

They did find something else.  They found a document caught in the end seam.  They read it with care and great interest.

“Well,” said Racey, when he came to the signatures, “no wonder Jack Harpe and Jakey Pooley wanted to get into the safe.  No wonder.  If we don’t get the whole gang now we’re no good.”

“And to think we never thought of such a thing.”

“I was took in.  I never thought anything else.  And it does lie just right for a cow ranch.”

“Of course it does.  You couldn’t help being fooled.  None of us had any idea—­”

“I’d oughta worked it out,” he grumbled.  “There ain’t any excuse for my swallowing what Jack Harpe told me.  Lordy, I was easy.”

“What do you care now?  Everything’s all right, and you’ve got me, haven’t you?” And here she leaned across the bran sack to kiss him.

She could not understand why his return kiss lacked warmth.

* * * * *

“Sun’s been up two hours,” he announced.  “And the hosses have had a good rest.  We’d better be goin’.”

“What are you climbing the tree for, then?” she demanded.

“I want to look over our back trail,” he told her, clambering into the branches of a tall cedar.  “I know we covered a whole heap of ground last night, but you never can tell.”

Apparently you never could tell.  For, when he arrived near the top of the cedar and looked out across a sea of treetops to the flat at the base of the mountain, he saw that which made him catch his breath and slide earthward in a hurry.