nd admire your own wonderful technique."

"I never sing unless I'm asked to do so," said Warner, with his old
invincible calm, "and then the competent few who have made an exhaustive
study of this most complex science appreciate my achievement. As I said,
I should consider it a mark of cheapness if I pleased the low, vulgar and
common herd."

"With that iron face and satisfied mind of yours you ought to go far,
George," said Pennington.

"Everything is arranged already. I will go far," said Warner in even
tones.

"I wonder what's happening outside in the big valley," said Dick.

"Whatever it is it's happening without us," said Warner. "But I fancy
that General Sheridan will be more uneasy about us than we are about him.
We know what we have done, that our task is finished, but for all he
knows we may have been trapped and destroyed."

"But Shepard or the sergeant will get through to him."

"Not for three or four days anyhow. Not even men on foot can travel fast
on a glassy sheet of ice. Every time I look at it on the mountain it
seems to grow smoother. If I were standing on top of that ridge and were
to slip I'd come like a catapult clear into the camp."

"Nothing could tempt me to go up there now," said Dick.

"Maybe not, nor me either, but as I live somebody is on top of that ridge
now."

Dick's eyes followed his pointing finger, saw a black dot on the utmost
summit, and then he snatched up his glasses.

"It's Slade, his very self!" he exclaimed in excitement. "I'd know that
hat anywhere. Now, how under the sun did he come there!"

"It's more important to know why he has come," said Warner, using his own
glasses. "I see him clearly and there is no doubt that it's the same
robber, traitor and assassin who, unfortunately, escaped when we shot his
horde to pieces."

"He has a rifle with him, and as sure as we live he's sitting down on the
ice, and picking out a target here in the valley."

"A risky business for Slade. Shooting upward we can take better aim at
him than he can at us."

There was a great stir in the valley, as others saw the figure on the
mountain and read Slade's intentions. Fifty men sprang to their feet
and seized their rifles. But the guerrilla moved swiftly along the
knife-edge of the ridge, obviously sure of his footing, and before any
of them could fire, dropped down behind a little group of cedars. Every
stem and bough was cased in a sheath of silver mail, but they hid