him."

A puff of wind blew out the light in the lamp, and father and daughter
stood with arms about each other under the dancing stars.

CHAPTER XXX

THE SHERIFF'S PLIGHT

Riding slowly Rathburn kept well in toward the range and proceeded
cautiously. This wasn't alone a safety measure, for he wished to favor
his horse. The dun had been hard ridden in the spurt to gain the
mountains ahead of the posse. He had been rested at Price's cabin, to
be sure, and also at the Mallory ranch; but now Rathburn had a ride of
fifteen miles to the town of Hope, and he did not know how much riding
he might have to do next day.

When a scant three miles from Hope, he halted, loosened the saddle
cinch, and rested his horse, while he himself reclined on the ground
and smoked innumerable cigarettes. He was in a thoughtful mood,
serious and somewhat puzzled. The recollection of Eagen's proposition
caused him to frown frequently. Then a wistful light would glow in his
eyes, and he thought of Laura Mallory. This would be succeeded by
another frown, and then his eyes would narrow, and the smile that men
had come to fear would tremble on his lips.

He was again in the saddle with the first faint glimmer of the
approaching dawn. He covered the distance into Hope at a swinging lope
and rode in behind a row of neat, yellow-brick buildings which formed
the east side of one block on the short main street.

Securing his horse behind a building midway of the rear of the block,
he entered one of the buildings through a back door. It proved to be
a combination pool room and soft-drink bar. No one was in the place
except the porter who was cleaning up. Rathburn noted that the man
showed no evidences of knowing him, although this was Rathburn's home
town.

"Kind of early, ain't you, boss?" grinned the porter. "Maybe you're
lookin' for something to start the day with." He winked broadly.

Rathburn nodded and walked over to the bar.

"Just get in?" asked the porter, as he put out a bottle of white
liquor and glanced at the dust on Rathburn's clothes.

"Just in," replied Rathburn, pouring and tossing off one drink.
"Where's everybody? Too early for 'em?"

"Well, it's about an hour too early on the average, unless there's
been an all-night game," replied the porter, putting the bottle away,
as his customer declined a second drink. "But then there ain't very
many in town right now. Everybody's out after the reward money."

Rathburn lifte