O'Keefe had need
to look up to meet the glance of the giant, but that was for him
unusual. Into most eyes he looked down, for when he stood in his socks
he was six feet two inches of hard-bitten sinew and man-flesh.

"Where's Brent?" asked Halloway, and Bud Sellers, whose manner had
fallen into the stillness of one chafing against delay, replied
tersely, "He hain't come back yit."

Soon, though, he arrived, and by now the west was reddening toward
sunset.

In a situation calling for absolute parsimony in the economy of time it
would have meant moments salvaged for the trio of men, who must act as
commanders of the rest, to have gone at once into a discussion of the
results of their several investigations. Yet that was impossible,
since for Halloway to tell his story to both would mean revealing his
knowledge of telegraphy. So while he and Brent talked first alone, Bud
Sellers stood apart, and into that fertile soil of mountain suspicion
crept a vague questioning as to why full confidence was denied him--a
suspicion which was later to bear fruit.

When he had been told all, save of Halloway's eavesdropping, he made
his own report.

"Myself, I hain't found out much, save thet I've got ther men ready,
an' thet I seed Lute Brown talkin' with Jase Mallows a spell back."

It was arranged that half of the force should proceed at top speed to
Crabapple post office and mobilize there; that Halloway himself should
push through to Viper and eavesdrop on the telegraph key, and that the
others should loaf about Coal City watching the suspects and gleaning
what information they could. The men of the last named contingent were
to play hounds on the heels of the plotters and seek to follow them
without being discovered.

While the three were still in council at one end of the raft, Bud came
suddenly to his feet and his jaw dropped in amazement. There striding
down the bank to the boom, with a face as freshly pink as a wild rose,
was Alexander herself, with her pack on her back.

She saw the gathering of men, some with faces that were unfamiliar to
her, and halted to inspect them. Into her eyes came something like a
smoulder as though in resentment of unwarranted trespassing, then
seeing Bud and Halloway and Brent she came aboard and demanded curtly,
"What be all these men doin' hyar?"

For an instant no one responded to her question. The reaction of
unexpected relief from driving anxiety left them wordless. Finally