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The Widow Dangley's homestead looked much more extensive in the moonlight than it really was. Everything was shown up, endowed with a curious silvery burnish which dazzled the eyes till shadows became magnified into buildings, and the buildings themselves distorted out of all proportion. Hers was simply a comfortable place and quite unpretentious.
"Quick, Tresler," he said, in a voice that had suddenly grown faint; "ther' ain't much time. Listen! get around Widow Dangley's place to-night two mornin' all " There came a rattle of flowing blood in his throat which blurred anything else he had to say. But he had said sufficient. Tresler understood.
Something in Tresler's tone had brought a light to their eyes which he was glad to see. "What is 't?" asked Jacob, eagerly. "Ay," protested Raw; "no bluffin'." "There's no bluffing about me," Tresler said quickly. "I'm dead in earnest. Here, listen, boys. I want you all to go out quietly, one by one. It's eight miles to Widow Dangley's.
Then the authorities drafted a man to relieve him for the more urgent business of the investigation into the death of the rancher and his foreman, and the trial of the half-breed raiders captured at Widow Dangley's. Diane, acting on Tresler's advice, had taken up her abode with Mrs. Doc.
"Raw," he said, "will you ride in for the doctor?" "He said t'-morrer," the man objected. "I know. But if you'd care to do me a favor you'll ride in and warn the doctor to-night, and then ride out to Widow Dangley's and meet us all there, cachéd in the neighborhood." The man stared; every man in that room was instantly agog with interest.
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