wed the direction of his gaze.

"No," he said; and turned again to his work of bestowing the goods in
the places he had selected for them.

The Padre crossed the room and sat down. Then he leisurely began to
exchange his moccasins for a pair of comfortable house-shoes.

"Had we run short?" he asked presently.

"No."

Buck's manner was touched with something like brusqueness.

"Then--why?"

Buck straightened up, bearing in his arms an ammunition box.

"Because we may need 'em," he said, and bestowed the box under the
settle with a kick.

"I don't get you--that's revolver ammunition you just put away."

"Yes."

Buck continued his work until the room was cleared. The other watched
him interestedly. Then as the younger man began to prepare their
supper the Padre again reverted to it.

"Maybe you'll tell me about 'em--now?" he said, with his easy smile.

Buck had just set the kettle on the stove. He stood up, and a frown of
perplexity darkened his brow.

"Maybe I won't be able to get to camp again," he said. "Maybe we'll
need 'em for another reason."

"What other?"

"The sheriff's comin'. That woman's sent for him. I've figgered out he
can't get along till 'bout to-morrow night, or the next mornin'.
Anyway it don't do to reckon close on how quick a sheriff can git
doin'."

The Padre's smile had died out of his eyes. He sighed.

"The sheriff's coming, eh?" Then he went on after a pause. "But these
stores--I don't see----"

A dark flame suddenly lit Buck's eyes, but though he broke in quickly
it was without the heat that was evidently stirring within him.

"They're for Joan, an' me--an' you. When the time comes guess we're
going where no sheriff can follow us, if you don't make trouble. I
don't guess you need tellin' of the valley below us. You know it, an'
you know the steps. You know the canyon away on toward Devil's Hill.
That's the way we're goin'--when the time comes. An' I'd say there
ain't no sheriff or dep'ties'll care to follow us through that canyon.
After that we cut away north. Ther's nobody can follow our trail that
way."

Something almost of defiance grew into his voice as he proceeded. He
was expecting denial, and was ready to resist it with all his force.

The Padre shook his head.

"Buck, Buck, this is madness--rank madness," he cried. "To resist the
law in the way your hot head dictates is to outlaw yourselves beyond
all redemption. You don't understand what you are doing. You d