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"He's the one who is in trouble," she answered. "And he may think that I he does think something. He has lost his mine a very valuable property. Searle and some Mr. McCoppet have taken it away from Mr. Van Buren and all those poor old men after all their work, their waiting everything! You've got to help me to see what we can do!" "McCoppet's a gambler a short-card, tumble weed," said Glen.

Filled with a turmoil of thoughts that seethed in his brain, like a brew in a witch's cauldron some of them dark and some golden bright, and some of them red with lust for many things he proceeded down street to McCoppet's place, to find himself locked out of the private den, where the gambler was closeted with Lawrence. Bostwick had told Beth partial truths. His journey had been hard.

An army of citizens, leading the way for Christler's deputies, was storming McCoppet's saloon. He heard, and a little understood. He knew too much to attempt to explain, to accuse even Trimmer to a mob in heat. Nothing but flight was possible, and perhaps even that was a risk. He started for the window. Trimmer leaped before him. "No you don't!" he said. "I told you, Opal "

"This claim on the reservation," interrupted McCoppet's agent. "The line was run out yesterday, according to Government instructions, and the line takes in this ground." He continued at his work. Napoleon got stirred up then and there. "You're a liar!" he cried out recklessly, " metaphorical speakin'. Belay there, my hearty. You and your dog-gone pirate craft "

At two in the morning, at McCoppet's gambling hall, where Van perhaps expected to encounter the jumpers of his claim, the little cashier succeeded at last in commanding Van's attention. Van had a glass of stuff in his hand stuff too strong to be scathed by all the pure food enactments in the world.

His one consolation lay in the fact that in less than two days Van Buren would be no better off than a pauper at best with scarcely a shelter for his head. One of the interesting and vital chapters in the whole affair was meanwhile in McCoppet's hands and receiving his attention. Trimmer had been captured, far more sober than the gambler could have hoped.

He had not yet expended Beth's money, which only that morning had been practically placed at McCoppet's disposal. But having finally landed the Government surveyor in camp, he had achieved the first desirable end in the game they were playing, and matters were moving at last with a speed to suit the most exacting.

Instead, he merely continued to grin while Billy remained in sight. Then instead of going on to Beth's, he circled a building and returned down street towards McCoppet's. Unfortunately for Bostwick he knew no ruffians in the camp none of the Trimmers who would, perhaps, accept a sum of money to waylay a man, bash him over the head, and filch required letters from his pocket.

"That reservation is a false alarm, as Billy and the others will tell you," answered Bostwick, referring to McCoppet's chosen prospectors. "The rush will prove a farce." "You've decided sudden, ain't you?" asked McCoppet. "There's a good big deck there to stack." "We've wasted time and money till to-day."

He was glad of this wisdom in the boy this show of courage whereby he had wished his sister spared. But the more he thought upon Beth's attitude towards himself, and the mystifying confessions old Billy Stitts had made, concerning the errands he was running for the girl, the more Bostwick fretted and warmed with exasperation, suspicion, and jealousy. He returned to McCoppet's.