“Listens fine,” the old-timer commented when the young man had finished.

“Can you rustle me a pair of boots from one of the boys, Dave?  Size number eight.  I’ve got to run back up Del Oro to-day.”

“Better let me go, son,” Dave proposed casually.

“No.  It’s my job to turn the fellow loose.”

“Well, see he doesn’t get the drop on you.  I wouldn’t trust him far as I could throw a bull by the tail.”

Dingwell departed to borrow the boots and young Rutherford came over to Beaudry.  Out of the corner of his eye Roy observed that Beulah was talking with the little Irish puncher, Pat Ryan.

Rutherford plunged awkwardly into his thanks.  His sister had made only a partial confidant of him, but he knew that she was under obligations to Beaudry for the rescue from Meldrum.  The girl had not dared tell her brother that the outlaw was still within his reach.  She knew how impulsively his anger would move to swift action.

“We Rutherfords ain’t liable to forget this, Mr. Beaudry.  Dad has been ’most crazy since Boots disappeared.  He’ll sure want to thank you himself soon as he gets a chance,” blurted Ned.

“I happened to be the lucky one to find her; that’s all,” Roy depreciated.

“Sure.  I understand.  But you did find her.  That’s the point.  Dad won’t rest easy till he’s seen you.  I’m going to take sis right home with me.  Can’t you come along?”

Roy wished he could, but it happened that he had other fish to fry.  He shook his head reluctantly.

Dingwell returned with a pair of high-heeled cowpuncher’s boots.  “Try these on, son.  They belong to Dusty.  The lazy hobo wasn’t up yet.  If they fit you, he’ll ride back to the ranch in his socks.”

After stamping about in the boots to test them, Roy decided that they would do.  “They fit like a coat of paint,” he said.

“Say, son, I’m going to hit the trail with you on that little jaunt you mentioned,” his partner announced definitely.

Roy was glad.  He had of late been fed to repletion with adventure.  He did not want any more, and with Dingwell along he was not likely to meet it.  Already he had observed that adventures generally do not come to the adventurous, but to the ignorant and the incompetent.  Dave moved with a smiling confidence along rough trails that would have worried his inexperienced partner.  To the old-timer these difficulties were not dangers at all, because he knew how to meet them easily.

They rode up Del Oro by the same route Roy and Beulah had followed the previous night.  Before noon they were close to the prospect hole where Roy had left the rustler.  The sound of voices brought them up in their tracks.

They listened.  A whine was in one voice; in the other was crisp command.

“Looks like some one done beat us to it,” drawled Dingwell.  “We’ll move on and see what’s doing.”