LUCK TURNS TRAITOR Johnny Jewel, carrying the propeller balanced on his shoulder and his rifle in the other hand--and perspiring freely with the task--came hurrying through the sage brush, following the faint trail his own eager feet had worn in the sand.

His eyes were turned frowning upon the ground, his lips were set together in the line of stubbornness.
He tilted the propeller against the adobe wall of the cabin, and went in without noticing that the door was open instead of closed as he had left it.

He was at the telephone when Sudden stepped in after him.

Johnny looked over his shoulder with wide, startled eyes.
"Oh.

I was just going to call up the ranch," he said with the brusqueness of a man whose mind is concentrated on one thing.
"What you want of the ranch ?" Sudden's tone was noncommittal.