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A hand cupped the flame for an instant to steady it before the match moved toward the wick of a kerosene lamp. Dug Doble's first thought was for his own safety. The house door was closed, the window blinds were down. He had heard the beat of hoofs die away on the road. But he did not intend to be caught by a trick.

Only three of us need to know it. You stay at the well to keep Doble's gang back if we slip up. I'll give the signal, and the third man will fire the fuse." "Buck Byington will be here pretty soon. I'll get him to set off the Fourth-of-July celebration. He's a regular clam won't ever say a word about this." "When you hear her go off, you'd better bring the men down on the jump."

Soon as it gets dark we'll travel south. She's gonna be my wife. You can take the kid back to the road an' leave him there." Again the Mexican lifted hands and shoulders while he pattered volubly, trying to make himself heard above the cries of the child. Dug had silenced Joyce by the simple expedient of clapping his big hand over her mouth. Doble's other hand went into his pocket.

The man was morose and sullen. His color was high. Plainly he was primed for a killing if trouble came. "Lookin' for me, Shorty?" he asked. "You fired Bear Cañon," charged the cowpuncher. "So?" "When I went to saddle." Doble's eyes narrowed. "You aimin' to run my business, Shorty?" Neither man lifted his gaze from the other. Each knew that the test had come once more.

The lieutenant lowered his voice. "We will be in camp to-morrow night about twenty-five miles to the southwest of here. Know where Doble's Spring is?" "No, sir." "You can find it. The water gushes out of the rocks pretty high up, falling in a sort of spray. You can't miss the place. You'll hear it if it's after dark when you get there."

Not one but looked as though he had been through the wars. An inventory of wounds showed a sprained ankle, a broken shoulder blade, a cut head, and various other minor wounds. Nearly every member of Doble's army was exceedingly nauseated. The men sat down or leaned up against the wreckage of the plant and drooped wretchedly. There was not an ounce of fight left in any of them.

Both of us were under a cloud. Now we're clear. We're goin' up to the house to have some supper. Applegate, you'll get both of the confessions of Miller fixed up, won't you? I'll want the one about George Doble's death to take with me to the Governor of Colorado. I'm takin' the train to-morrow." "I'll have the district attorney fix up the papers," the sheriff promised.

"That's all. Miss Joyce said for me to get this wagonload of grub out soon as I could. So I come right along." "Doble been seen in town lately?" asked Dave. "Not as I know of. Shorty has." "Shorty ain't in this." "Do you reckon ?" Sanders cut the teamster short. "Some of Doble's work. But I don't see why he sent for Keith too." "He didn't. Keith begged to go along an' Miss Joyce took him."

Hank stuck to his guns. "No, sir. She was on that sorrel of hers, an' Keith was ridin' behind her. I saddled myself and took the horse to the store. They was waitin' there for me, the two young folks an' Juan." "Juan?" "Juan Otero. He brought the note an' rode back with her." The old cattleman felt a clutch of fear at his heart. Juan Otero was one of Dug Doble's men. "That all you know, Hank?"

He could have talked to the waves of the sea with as much effect. It is doubtful if she heard him. There was a patter of rapid feet. A small body hurled itself against Doble's leg and clung there, beating his thigh with a valiant little fist. "You le' my sister go! You le' my sister go!" the boy shouted, repeating the words over and over. Doble looked down at Keith.