As he neared the face of the precipice on the right, he saw Provine sitting on his horse, saw Caldwell circle in to the wall and cutting in before the massed cattle, go straight along its length. The faint starlight was just sufficient to show up bulk and movement, not detail. He heard the foreman begin to call "Coee—coo-ee—coo-ee"—and the next moment he could not believe his eyes, for horse and rider melted head-first into the face of Rainbow Cliff, as a knife slices into a surface and disappeared! Caldwell's voice came from the heart of the wall, far away and muffled, calling "Coo-ee—coo-ee"—Provine edged in against the steers, shouting, he followed suit, as to movement, though he did not speak, and the dark blot of the mass began to flow into the solid rock of the spine that crowned Mystery Ridge!
Sheriff Selwood had solved the mystery of the disappearing steers—knew to a certainty who were the rustlers of Nameless River and he could not get away with his knowledge quickly enough.
Therefore he reined his horse away to the left, dropped back along the herd, edged off a bit—a bit more—sidled into a shadow—slipped behind the pine that made it—and putting the bay to a sharp walk, went down the mountain.
As the sounds behind him lessened he drew a
