Buck Bellew said nothing but he grinned to himself. Plainly
something amused him hugely.

"All right;" he said, "we'll look."

They rode about among the desert dips and gullies for some time, but
they could discover no trace of any agency that could have produced
the weird cries. Both Red Bill and the black-mustached man were
plainly nonplussed.

"This beats all," opined Summers. "I don't even see a track any
place."

"Nor don't I," rejoined his companion seriously. Both were
superstitious men, a failing apparently not shared by Bellew, who
stood regarding them, seated easily sideways in his saddle, with an
amused look.

"Hey Bellew, why don't you come an' look. You alters wuz a good
tracker?" demanded Red Bill looking up suddenly.

"Not fer me, thanks," was the easy response, "ef you want to hunt
spooks--"

"Who said it wuz a spook or any such pack uv nonsense?" glared back
Summers.

"I didn't," declared the black-mustached man with great
positiveness.