and fell upon the youth.

"Bucky, by thunder!"

The latter got up nimbly in time to be hospitably thumped and
punched. He was a lithe, slender young fellow, of medium height,
and he carried himself lightly with that manner of sunburned
competency given only by the rough-and-tumble life of the
outdoors West.

While the men reloaded the car he and the sheriff stood apart and
talked in low tones. Collins told what he knew, both what he had
seen and inferred, and Bucky heard him to the end.

"Yes, it ce'tainly looks like one of Wolf Leroy's jobs," he
agreed. "Nobody else but Leroy would have had the nerve to follow
you right up to the depot and put the kibosh on sending those
wires. He's surely game from the toes up. Think of him sittin'
there reading the newspaper half an hour after he held up the
Limited!"

"Did he do that, Bucky?" The sheriff's tone conceded admiration.

"He did. He's the only train robber ever in the business that
could have done it. Oh, the Wolf's tracks are all over this job."

"No doubt about that. I told you I recognized York Neil by him
being shy that trigger finger I fanned off down at Tombstone.
Well, they say he's one of the Wolf's standbys."