s, the
deputy, was a confirmed human song-bird, he knocked sharply on the door
with his knuckles.

"It's me--Bat," he called out, mimicking Lewis' voice, in answer to a
question from within.

"You're early to-night. What's struck you?" Sheriff Thomas opened the
door, and turning, left it so, for the "relief" to enter. He had half
feared that an attempt might be made to liberate Santry, but had never
dreamed that any one would try the thing alone. He was glad to be
relieved, for a poker game at which he wanted to sit in would soon start
at the Gulch Saloon.

He was the most surprised man in Wyoming, when he felt the cold muzzle
of Wade's Colt boring into the nape of his neck and heard the ranchman's
stern warning to keep quiet or take the consequences. Sheriff Thomas had
earned his right to his "star" by more than one exhibition of nerve, but
he was too familiar with gun ethics to argue with the business end of a
"45."

"Not a sound!" Outwardly cold as ice, but inwardly afire, Wade shoved
the weapon against his victim's neck and marched him to the middle of
the room. "I've got the upper hand, Sheriff, and I intend to keep it."

"You're a damn fool, Wade." The Sheriff spoke without visible emotion
and in a low tone. "You'll go up for this. Don't you realize that...."

"Can it!" snapped Wade, deftly disarming the officer with his free hand.
"Never mind the majesty of the law and all that rot. I thought that all
over before I came. Now that I've got you and drawn your teeth, you'll
take orders from me. Get my foreman out of that cell and be quick about
it!"

There was nothing to do but obey, which Thomas quietly did, although
somewhat in fear of what Santry might do when at liberty. When the cell
door was unlocked, the old plainsman, in a towering rage at the
injustice of his incarceration, seemed inclined to choke his erstwhile
jailer.

"None of that, Bill," Wade admonished curtly. "He's only been a tool in
this business, although he ought to know better. We'll tie him up and
gag him; that's all. Rip up one of those blankets."

"I knew you'd come, boy!" The foreman's joy was almost like that of a
big dog at sight of his master. "By the great horned toad, I knew it!"
With his sinewy hands he tore the blanket into strips as easily as
though the wool had been paper. "Now for him, drat him!"

Wade stood guard while the helpless Sheriff was trussed up and his mouth
stopped by Santry, and if the ranch owner felt any