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husband?" Joe Gamble was startled. None of them had any idea Sue Gibson had been married, let alone that she was a widow.
    "Yes, I was married to Luke Potter. After he died I started using my own name again, as Dad wanted me to. Luke was a fine man."
    Back out on the store porch Gamble shook his head and smiled to himself. Women were always a surprise, he thought. It was best, he realized, never to think you had a handle on one of them, because you were always sure to be wrong.
    At the bar, over whiskey, the three owlhoots had reached some conclusions. "He smelled somethin', that's what. He's up in those hills somewheres now, scoutin' for Connors."
    "Maybe he's found him already." Grat was thinking of the gray horse that Hoyt had been riding ... the one that was still missing.
    Sim Aragon downed his whiskey and shoved back in his chair. "You tell Jack he needn't worry about Cassidy. I'll pick
    "Grat? Oh! Why, not much of anything! He just said he thought Red had gone on out of the country, and I told him that wouldn't be true because Red knew Hopalong Cassidy was coming up to meet him."
    "Cassidy?" Joe stared at her, an idea slowly forming in his brain. "Now what do you know about that?"
    "Why do you ask, Joe? What happened?"
    "Why, Grat seemed plumb upset about something, and then that Bones feller come in ridin' with Sim Aragon, and he couldn't get to them fast enough to tell 'em. Then Bones told Grat somethin' and he fell to cussin' somethin' awful. I reckon," he added, "I'm makin' a lot out of nothin', but it doesn't look right, and them with Aragon, too."
    "No," Sue replied slowly, "it doesn't."
    Sue looked at Joe. She knew the man by sight and had even danced with him once at a social. Joe Gamble rode for the 3F outfit. He was an honest, hard-working man and a top hand. "Joe," she asked suddenly, "have you lost any cattle lately?"
    It was his turn to look sharply at her, his eyes suddenly alert. "We sure have, ma'am. Hard to say how many, but some."
    "So have we. Red thought he had found a trail that morning he rode off. He said nothing to anyone else and told me not to tell Dad--it might worry him. He said he would follow it up, then come back. That was days ago, and there has been no sign of him since."
    Joe Gamble absorbed that slowly. He frowned at his boot toes. It was all vague and made no sense. None of them really knew they had lost cattle, and it might be they were heading into higher country where there was more water and the grass was greener. It could be. Still, when a man has been on the range for years he comes to the point where he can judge the
    number of cattle very well, and he was positive they were losing stock. Now Sue Gibson said Red had had the same suspicion. How about the others? It would do no harm to ask around.
    "May be nothin' to it," he commented then, "but if this here Hopalong shows up, let me know, will you? I may," he added, "scout around and try to pick up Red's trail. He seemed like a right nice feller."
    "We--Dad, I mean--have known Red Connors for a long time, and Hopalong, too. They drove herds over the trail together. They were together when my husband was killed."
    "Your husband?" Joe Gamble was startled. None of them had any idea Sue Gibson had been married, let alone that she was a widow.
    "Yes, I was married to Luke Potter. After he died I started using my own name again, as Dad wanted me to. Luke was a fine man."
    Back out on the store porch Gamble shook his head and smiled to himself. Women were always a surprise, he thought. It was best, he realized, never to think you had a handle on one of them, because you were always sure to be wrong.
    At the bar, over whiskey, the three owlhoots had reached some conclusions. "He smelled somethin', that's what. He's up in those hills somewheres now, scoutin' for Connors."
    "Maybe he's found him already." Grat was thinking of the gray horse that Hoyt had been riding . . . the one that was still missing.
    Sim Aragon downed his whiskey and