any concern of his. He had been detached from the
work of the camp. His belly was full to the brim of rough food, and he
was awaiting the psychological moment when the orders of his boss must
be carried out. Peigan Charley was nothing if not thorough in all he
undertook.

It mattered very little to him if he were asked to cut an Indian's
throat, or if he were told by Kars to attend Sunday-school. He would
do as his "boss" said. The throat would be cut from ear to ear, if he
had to spend the rest of his days in the penitentiary. As for the
Sunday-school he would sing the hymns with the best, or die in the
attempt.

Half an hour passed under this straining vigil. He had stirred
slightly to ease his lean, stiffening muscles. The rough buildings of
the camp slowly faded under the growing darkness. The activity of the
camp became swallowed up, and only his keen ears told him of it. The
pack ponies at their picketings, under the sheer walls beyond the
cook-house, abandoned their restless movements over their evening meal
of grain. The moment was approaching.

At last he stirred. He rose alertly and peered within the darkened
doorway. Then his moccasined feet carried him swiftly and silently to
the side of the bunk on which his "boss" was sleeping.

Kars awoke with a start. He was sitting up with his blankets flung
back. The touch of a brown hand upon his shoulder had banished
completely the last of his deep slumber.

"Boss come. Him dark--good."

The Indian had said all he felt to be necessary. He stood gazing down
at the great shadowy figure sitting up on the bunk.

"You're an infernal nuisance," Kars protested. But he swung himself
round and stood up. "Everything ready?" he went on, strapping a
revolver belt about his waist. "Boss Bill? He ready?" He picked up
his heavy automatic lying on the table at the head of his bunk, and
examined it with his fingers to ascertain if the clip of cartridges was
full. He reached under the bunk for some spare clips. Then he drew on
his pea-jacket and buttoned it up.

"Boss Bill all ready. Him by hospital."

"Good. Then come right on. Go tell Boss Bill. I go to the river."

The dusky Indian shadow melted away in the darkness. Kars watched it
go. Then he filled up a brandy flask and thrust it into his pocket. A
moment later he passed down to the water's edge, only diverging to
exchange a few parting words with Abe Dodds who was in charge of the
def