cognized--and no voice sounded to distinguish
its possessor.

The mauling of the battering ram on the rear door ceased and a
pulseless quiet followed save for the tramp-tramp of feet as yet other
spectral and monotonously similar figures slipped through the door and
fell into enveloping ranks along the walls, and for the woman's
half-smothered hysteria of fright.

Angered by her disconcerting sobs, Jim Towers seized his wife's
shoulder and shook her brutally. "Damn ye, shet up afore I hurts ye,"
he snarled, and, as he finished, Bear Cat Stacy's open hand smote him
across the lips and brought a trickle of blood. Into the eyes of the
trapped man came an evil glitter of ineffectual rage, and from an upper
room rose the wail of awakened children.

"Go up sta'rs, ma'am, an' comfort ther youngsters," Turner quietly
directed the woman. "No harm hain't a-goin' ter come ter you--ner
them." Then, wheeling, he ripped out a command to the huddled
prisoners.

"Drap them guns!"

When the surrendered arms had been gathered in, Stacy drew his captives
into line and nodded to George Kelly, who stepped forward, his face
working with a strong emotion. One could see that only the effect of
acknowledged discipline stifled his longing to leap at the throat of
Jim Towers.

"Kin ye identify any one man or more hyar, es them thet burned down
yore dwellin' house? If ye kin, point him out."

Walking to a position from which he directly confronted Towers, Kelly
raised a finger unsteady with rage and thrust it almost into the face
itself. Then the hand grew steady and remained accusingly poised.

There was a moment of silence, tensely charged, which Bear Cat's voice
broke with a steady precision of judicial inquiry.

"What proof hev ye got ter offer us?"

"Make him lift up his right foot an' show ther patch thet he's got on
ther sole an' ther nails on ther heel," demanded Kelly eagerly, but at
that Stacy shook his head.

"No. Fust ye tell us what manner of shoe hit war--then we'll see ef
ye're right."

George Kelly described a print made by a shoe, home-mended with a
triangular patch, and with a heel from whose circle of hobs, two were
missing. "Now," snapped Bear Cat. "Let's see thet shoe. Tek hit off."

Reluctantly the man whose house had been invaded stooped and unlaced
his brogan.

Stacy wheeled abruptly to face one of the lines against the wall. "You
men thet seen them foot-prints, atter thet fire, step ter ther fore."

A