"Never mind about my folks, Brian," returned the rancher as he mounted. "You know they'll be on the job."
"You bet I know, Henry," came the answer as the mountaineer rode away. Then--"Bill, you'll take every one between here and the head of the canyon. If there's a man shows up at Carleton's later than an hour after sunup, we'll run him out of the country. Tom, you take the trail over into the Santa Ana, circle around to the mouth of the canyon, and back up Clear Creek. Turn out everybody. Jack, you'll take the Galena Valley neighborhood. Send in your men but don't come back yourself until you've found that man who went down the canyon on horseback."
When the last rider was gone in the darkness, the Ranger said to the artist, "Come, Aaron, you must get some rest. There's not a thing more that can be done, until daylight."
Aaron King protested. But, strong as he was, the unusual exertion of his hours in the saddle, together with his racking anxiety, had told upon muscles and nerves. His face, pale and drawn, gave the lie to his words that he was not tired.
"You must rest, man," said Brian Oakley, shortly. "There may be days of this ahead of us. You've got to snatch every minute, when it's possible, to conserve your strength. You've already had more than the rest of us. Jerk off your boots and lie down until I call you, even if you can't sleep. Do as I say--I'm boss here."
As the artist obeyed, the Ranger continued, "I wrote the Sheriff all I knew--and some things that I suspect. It's that automobile that sticks in my mind--that and some other things. The machine must have left Fairlands before you did, unless it came over through the Galena Valley, from some town on the railroad, up San Gorgonio Pass way--which isn't likely. If it _did_ come from Fairlands, it must have waited somewhere along the road, to enter the canyon after dark. Do you think that any one else besides Myra Willard and Lagrange and you know that Sibyl started up here?"
"I don't think so. The neighbor where she borrowed the horse didn't know where she was going."
The artist had already told the Ranger about the possible meeting of Mrs. Taine and Sibyl in his studio.
"Mrs. Taine left for the East at four o'clock, you know," said the artist.