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From his pocket came slowly a folded paper. He opened and looked

it over at leisure before his mocking eyes lifted again to the

wounded man. "This belongs to you, too, but I know you'll excuse

me if I keep it to show to the boys before returning it."

"So you've read it," Arlie broke in scornfully.

He grinned at her, and nodded. "Yes, I've read it, my dear. I had

to read it, to find out whose it was. Taken by and large, it's a

right interesting document, too."

He smiled at the ranger maliciously, yet with a certain catlike

pleasure in tormenting his victim. Arlie began to feel a

tightening of her throat, a sinking of the heart. But Fraser

looked at the man with a quiet, scornful steadfastness. He knew

what was coming, and had decided upon his course.

"Seems to be a kind of map, lieutenant. Here's Gimlet Butte and

the Half Way House and Sweetwater Dam and the blasted pine. Looks

like it might be a map from the Butte to this part of the

country. Eh, Mr. Fraser from Texas?"

"And if it is?"