Scott was watching with interest as the parade passed him when the herder called to him. “Too late to try to count ’em now, sonny. You ought to have done that before you ordered the recount.”
“Don’t look as big as it did,” Scott replied, frowning at the band and trying to look worried.
“It’ll look smaller yet when the tail end of it goes through that chute this morning,” the herder jeered.
“Well, I should worry,” Scott retorted, “Dawson, Ramsey and Jed will be there to do the counting at ten o’clock. Are the others coming?”
“You bet, and crazy to get there. You won’t have a very hard time counting yourself when this thing is over.”
“Think not?” Scott replied teasingly, and he rode back toward the chute, leaving the herder cursing him for a conceited upstart who would soon get a proper calling down. He stopped in at the cabin to get his tally register, and then rode on down to the chute to see that all was in readiness there. It was still an hour and a half before the time set for the recount and Scott put in the time examining the fence on either side of the chute to make sure that there were no holes.
He had not gone far along the fence on the west side of the chute when he noticed something which aroused his curiosity. All the ground between two of the posts had been trampled up by sheep. Of course the sheep had been crowded pretty close up to the fence on both sides at the time of the counting, but this was different. There had been no rain since the sheep came in and the distinct, continuous trail could be plainly seen between the two posts. The ground was not trampled up that way between any of the other posts. Further examination showed that one of the posts was loose and that all wires had been cut at that point and renailed.
This was a new piece of evidence which Scott had almost missed. Evidently Dugan had been afraid that Scott would get back from that fake fire before he had time to get all the sheep through the chute and had opened up that hole in the fence to hurry things along. He had a pretty clear idea now of the plan the stockmen had used and just how they had worked it. He recognized now that Dawson was the brains of the whole ring and that it was his smooth craft which had made it work. No detail which could be foreseen had been overlooked.