se whisper.

"Good. We held the check-line."

"Same here so far. It's been hell. Several of my boys fainted."

"I'll take charge awhile. You go and get some sleep," urged Sanders.

The cattleman shook his head. "No. See it through. Say, son, look who's
here!" His thumb hitched toward his right shoulder.

Dave looked down the line of blackened, grimy fire-fighters and his eye
fell on Shorty. He was still wearing chaps, but his Chihuahua hat had
succumbed long ago. Manifestly the man had been on the fighting line for
some hours.

"Doesn't he know about the reward?"

"Yes. He was hidin' in Malapi when the call came for men. Says he's no
quitter, whatever else he is. You bet he ain't. He's worth two of most
men at this work. Soon as we get through he'll be on the dodge again, I
reckon, unless Applegate gets him first. He's a good sport, anyhow. I'll
say that for him."

"I reckon I'm a bad citizen, sir, but I hope he makes his getaway before
Applegate shows up."

"Well, he's one tough scalawag, but I don't aim to give him away right
now. Shorty is a whole lot better proposition than Dug Doble."

Dave came back to the order of the day. "What do you want me to do now?"

The cattleman looked him over. "You damaged much?"

"No."

"Burnt in the shoulder, I see."

"Won't keep me from swinging a sack and bossing a gang."

"Wore out, I reckon?"

"I feel fine since breakfast--took two cups of strong coffee."

Again Crawford's eyes traveled over his ally. They saw a ragged, red-eyed
tramp, face and hands and arms blackened with char and grimed with smoke.
Outside, he was such a specimen of humanity as the police would have
arrested promptly on suspicion. But the shrewd eyes of the cattleman saw
more--a spirit indomitable that would drive the weary, tormented body
till it dropped in its tracks, a quality of leadership that was a trumpet
call to the men who served with him, a soul master of its infirmities.
His heart went out to the young fellow. Wherefore he grinned and gave him
another job. Strong men to-day were at a premium with Emerson Crawford.

"Ride over and see how Bob's comin' out. We'll make it here."

Sanders swung to the saddle and moved forward to the next fire front,
the one between Cattle and San Jacinto Canons. Hart himself was not here.
There had come a call for help from the man in charge of the gang trying
to hold the fire in San Jacinto. He had answered that summons long before
daybreak and ha