But Hare would allow no one else to attend to Silvermane.  He rubbed the tired gray, gave him a drink at the trough, led him to the corral, and took leave of him with a caress like Mescal’s.  Then he went to his room and bathed himself and changed his clothes, afterward presenting himself at the supper-table to eat like one famished.  Mescal and he ate alone, as they had been too late for the regular hour.  The women-folk waited upon them as if they could not do enough.  There were pleasant words and smiles; but in spite of them something sombre attended the meal.  There was a shadow in each face, each step was slow, each voice subdued.  Naab and his sons were waiting for Hare when he entered the sitting room, and after his entrance the door was closed.  They were all quiet and stern, especially the father.  “Tell us all,” said Naab, simply.

While Hare was telling his adventures not a word or a move interrupted him till he spoke of Silvermane’s running Dene down.

“That’s the second time!” rolled out Naab.  “The stallion will kill him yet!”

Hare finished his story.

“What don’t you owe to that whirlwind of a horse!” exclaimed Dave Naab.  No other comment on Hare or Silvermane was offered by the Naabs.

“You knew Holderness had taken in Silver Cup?” inquired Hare.

August Naab nodded gloomily.

“I guess we knew it,” replied Dave for him.  “While I was in White Sage and the boys were here at home, Holderness rode to the spring and took possession.  I called to see him on my way back, but he wasn’t around.  Snap was there, the boss of a bunch of riders.  Dene, too, was there.”

“Did you go right into camp?” asked Hare.

“Sure.  I was looking for Holderness.  There were eighteen or twenty riders in the bunch.  I talked to several of them, Mormons, good fellows, they used to be.  Also I had some words with Dene.  He said:  ’I shore was sorry Snap got to my spy first.  I wanted him bad, an’ I’m shore goin’ to have his white horse.’  Snap and Dene, all of them, thought you were number thirty-one in dad’s cemetery.”

“Not yet,” said Hare.  “Dene certainly looked as if he saw a ghost when Silvermane jumped for him.  Well, he’s at Silver Cup now.  They’re all there.  What’s to be done about it?  They’re openly thieves.  The new brand on all your stock proves that.”

“Such a trick we never heard of,” replied August Naab.  “If we had we might have spared ourselves the labor of branding the stock.”

“But that new brand of Holderness’s upon yours proves his guilt.”

“It’s not now a question of proof.  It’s one of possession.  Holderness has stolen my water and my stock.”

“They are worse than rustlers; firing on Mescal and me proves that.”

“Why didn’t you unlimber the long rifle?” interposed Dave, curiously.

“I got it full of water and sand.  That reminds me I must see about cleaning it.  I never thought of shooting back.  Silvermane was running too fast.”