arrest, had he not been convinced of Otis’ guilt. And in view of the circumstances of the damning bit of writing on the cabin floor, and the empty shells in his revolver, he could not hold it against the Sheriff that that official was so confident he had committed the crime.

“Wait until he talks to Gus Bernat,” Otis said aloud, frightening the chipmunk, “then I’ll have the laugh on him.”

It would be odd indeed, he thought, if the Sheriff should return with Soggy Radley as his prisoner, charged with the theft of cattle from Otis, whom he held on a charge of murder.

A cold wind, sweeping down from the snow-covered Tetons, set the leaves of the quaking aspen atremble, and sung through the branches of the pines. Otis glanced at the sky, and uttered an exclamation of exasperation.

“Looks like I’m in for a good drenching,” he remarked to the chipmunk, which scuttled away among the rocks again. “It’s a wonder they didn’t take a look at the weather before they left me chained up like this. But then, I suppose prisoners can’t be too particular.”

The wind ceased. A big drop of rain splashed on the rock where the chipmunk had sat. Then, with a rush, the storm broke. The wind lashed the aspen grove, until Otis, peering through the sheets of rain, could see nothing but the silvery under side of the leaves.

He shrank against the tree, circling to the east so the trunk might afford him some measure of protection from the driving rain. He was thankful for the little shelter that the spreading branches of the pine gave him.

There was a flash of lightning—the lessening roll of thunder echoing from the rocky walls of the gulch. He could barely make out the trees on the far side of the creek. Pie-face, his back humped to the storm, stood head down, now and then casting a curious glance at his master, who made no move to lead him to shelter.

Suddenly there was a terrific report. Otis believed he could feel the earth tremble beneath him. He knew that the lightning had struck a tree somewhere in the gulch near by.

Then, for the first time, he was assailed by a questioning fear for his own safety. He remembered coming upon the bodies of a score of sheep that had sought shelter beneath a huge tree in the highlands near Two-Gwo-Tee pass two years before, only to be electrocuted in a mass when a bolt of lightning struck the tree. He cursed the deputy for his 

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