is little acts of faith had borne fruit.

The hunters stayed up later than usual, and had to be reminded twice by
Pan of the strenuous morrow.

When Pan made for his own bed Mac New followed him in the darkness.

"Smith, I'd like a word with you," said the outlaw, under his breath.
His eyes gleamed out of his dark face.

"Sure, Mac, glad to hear you," replied Pan, not without a little shock.

"I've stuck on heah, haven't I?" queried Mac New.

"You sure have. I wouldn't ask a better worker. And if the drive is
all I hope for, I'll double your money."

"Wal, I didn't come with you on my own hook," rejoined the other,
hurriedly. "Leastways it wasn't my idee. Hardman got wind of your
hoss-trappin' scheme. Thet was after he'd fired me without my wages.
Then he sent fer me, an' he offered me gold to get a job with you an'
keep him posted if you ketched any big bunch of hosses."

Here the outlaw clinked the gold coin in his coat pocket.

"I took the gold, an' said I'd do it," went on Mac New deliberately.
"But I never meant to double-cross you, an' I haven't. Reckon I might
have told you before. It jest didn't come, though, till tonight."

"Thanks, Mac," returned Pan, extending his hand to the outlaw. "I
wasn't afraid to trust you... Hardman's playing a high hand, then?"

"Reckon he is, an' thet's a hunch."

"All right, Mac. I'm thinking you're square with me," replied Pan.

After the outlaw left, Pan sat on his bed pondering this latest aspect
of the situation. Mac New's revelation was what Pan would have
expected of such a character. Bad as he was, he seemed a white man
compared with this underhanded greedy Hardman. Even granting Hardman's
gradual degeneration, Pan could not bring himself to believe the man
would attempt any open crooked deal. Still this attempt to bribe Mac
New had a dubious look. Pan did not like it. If his wild horse
expedition had not reached the last day he would have sent Blinky back
to Marco or have gone himself to see if Hardman's riders could be
located. But it was too late. Pan would not postpone the drive, come
what might.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

At last the cold night wind reminded Pan that he had not yet rolled in
his blankets, which he had intended to do until Mac New's significant
statement had roused somber misgiving. He went to bed, yet despite the
exertions of the long day, slumber was a contrary thing that he could
not woo.

He lay under the transpare