head and face
and eyes made one think of a little Scotch terrier.

"Ye're the meenister?" he said briefly.

"Yes," replied Shock, greatly surprised at his visitor, but warming to
the Scotch voice.

"Aye. Ye're wanted."

"Wanted? By whom?"

"The man that lives in this hoose. He's deein', I'm thinkin'."

"Dying!" said Shock, starting up and seizing his hat. "What! Ike?"

"Aye, Ike. He's verra ill."

"Go on, then," said Shock. "Quick!"

"Aye, quick it is." And the little man, without further words, plunged
into the darkness. A few minutes' swift walk through the black night
brought them to the Ranchers' Roost. There, in a corner of the room at
the back of the bar, he found Ike lying almost unconscious, and
apparently very ill.

"Why, what's the matter?" cried Shock, dropping on his knees beside
Ike. But Ike seemed stupefied, and mumbled a few incoherent words.
Shock caught the words, "the gang," and "dope."

He looked in an agony of helplessness at the little Scotchman, who
stood by looking down upon the sick man with face quite unmoved.

"Do you know what he says?" enquired Shock.

"He's no sayin' much," said the little Scotchman calmly.

Again Ike tried to speak, and this time Shock caught the words, "The
boss--gang's got him--Smiley Simmons--back room--fetch him."

"What does he mean?" cried Shock.

"It's ha-r-r-d to tell that," said the little Scotchman. "He's talkin'
about some boss or other."

"Oh, yes, I know what that means. He is referring to his boss, young
Stanton."

"Oh, ay!" said the little Scotchman, with a light breaking on his face.
"I saw the bodies. They've gaen o'er to the creature Simmons'."

"Show me the way," said Shock. "Quick!"

"Come, then," said the little Scotchman, leading once more into the
darkness.

Some distance down the street stood Smiley--or as some preferred to
call him Slimy--Simmons' general store. At the back of the store there
was a side door.

"They're in yonder," said the little Scotchman, and disappeared.

Shock knocked at the door, but there was no response. He turned the
handle, opened the door, and walking in found himself in the back of
the store, in a room dimly lighted by a hanging lantern. Seated on a
stool at a high desk, evidently busy with his ledger, sat a man, tall,
slender, and wiry. He had a sharp, thin face, with high forehead,
protruding nose, and receding chin. The moment he spoke Shock
discovered at once how it was he came by his ni