the table without the least consideration for its somewhat trifling
powers of endurance. But Jeff was talking, and Nan's whole attention
was swiftly caught and held by the man whose words and actions were at
all times irresistible to her.

He was talking slowly and clearly with that shadow of a drawl which was
his way when his decision was arrived at.

"Say, it's as clear as don't matter we're up against an experienced and
organized proposition," he said. "I don't guess this is any kind of
scallawag outfit of toughs which just get around and duff a bunch, and
hit the trail for safety till the froth they've raised dies down again.
It's Orrville repeating itself." He paused thoughtfully. His eyes
were regarding the table before him. When he raised them again they
were full of a peculiar light which shone in Bud's direction. "Ther's
features in the game carry a parallel to that play, and I guess they
point the fact that the fellers of that gang who got away at their
round-up have got around this region now, and figure to carry on the
same play right here. You'll get that, Bud--sure." Bud nodded.
"Well, it's up to us," Jeff went on, as though the other's agreement
had left his course of action clear. "Maybe ther's States Marshalls
around, and a pretty bunch of deputies lying behind Sheriff Hank
Killick, but there never was an official gang these folk couldn't beat
a mile. Guess they're not duffing the private property of Hank
Killick, or any of his boys. We best get busy our own way, which is
the way Dug McFarlane took nearly five years to dream out."

His blue eyes had grown colder and harder while he talked. There was a
bite, too, in the manner in which he referred to the doings in Orrville
of four years ago. There was a curious curl to his firm lips, which,
to Nan's mind, suggested a painful smile. And she disliked it. She
disliked his whole manner, which, just now, was none of the Jeff she
had always known. Bud read deeper. And that which he read carried him
back to an unforgettable scene in the Cathills, when a twin stood
gazing upon its other half, hanging by the neck dead under the shade of
a wide-spreading tree.

"It's up to us to set up a reward, Bud," Jeff went on, in the same
passionless fashion. "A big reward. We've got to make it so some
amateur Judas is ready to sell his friends. It'll cost us a piece, but
it's the way to fix things. And anyway it's going to be worth it,
sure. I allo