As he saw the incident, he was not yet considered worth shadowing, but had in some way excited a certain degree of curiosity about himself.  Starr did not like that at all.  He had hoped to impress every one with his perfect harmlessness, and to pass for a stock buyer and nothing else.

He could not imagine how he had possibly excited suspicion, and he wanted to lull it immediately and permanently.  The obvious way to do that would be to rise late, saddle Rabbit and ride around town a little—­to the post office and a saloon, for instance—­get his breakfast at the best-patronized place in town, and then go about his legitimate business.  On the other hand, he wanted to try and trace those cord tires down the cross street, if he could, and he could not well do that on horseback without betraying himself.

The shed was built out flush with the arroyo edge, so that at the rear of the corral one could only go as far as the gate, which closed against the end of the shed.  It occurred to Starr that if the young Mexican had been looking for something to steal, he would probably have come in at the gate, which was fastened only with a stout hook on the inside.  The arroyo bank had caved under the farther corner of the shed, so that a hole the size of a large barrel showed at that end of the manger.  Cats and dogs, and perhaps boys, had gone in and out there until a crude kind of trail was worn down the bank to the arroyo bottom.  At some risk to his tan shoes and his new gray suit, Starr climbed into the manger and let himself down that hole.  The trail was firm and dry and so steep he had to dig his heels in to keep from tobogganing to the bottom, but once down he had only to follow the arroyo bottom to a place where he could climb out.  Before he found such a place he came to a deep, dry gully that angled back toward the business part of town.  A footpath in the bottom of it encouraged him to follow it, and a couple of hundred yards farther along he emerged upon the level end of a street given over to secondhand stores, junk shops and a plumber’s establishment.  From there to the main street was easy enough.

As he had expected, only a few citizens were abroad and Starr strolled over to the cross street he wanted to inspect.  He found the long-lined tread of the tires he sought plainly marked where they had turned into this street.  After that he lost them where they had been blotted out by the broad tires of a truck.  When he was sure that he could trace them no farther, he turned back, meaning to have breakfast at his favorite restaurant.  And as he turned, he met face to face a tall young Mexican in a full-crowned Stetson banded with horsehair.