at the same time made her think her path was a bed of
roses, and that was Wild Bill. In an astonishingly short time she was
sitting at the table poring over a writing-pad, and biting the already
well-chewed end of a pen.

* * * * *

Outside, in the smoke-laden atmosphere of the store, amidst the busy
click of poker chips and clink of glasses, Wild Bill was talking
earnestly to Minky, who was standing behind the counter.

They had been talking for some time. Minky's eyes frequently wandered
in the direction of a table where four strangers were playing. But no
one could have guessed, in his quiet scrutiny, the anxiety that lay
behind it.

"You _must_ git out to-night?" he inquired of his hawk-visaged
friend.

"Sure," responded Bill absently.

"High finance?"

Bill nodded, with the ghost of a smile.

"A gang of rich guys," he said. "They're gathering at Spawn City for a
financial descent on Suffering Creek. They're all minin' folk. Guess
they'll be yearning for a big game."

"When'll you git back?"

"Noon, day after to-morrow, maybe."

Bill had turned away, and was abstractedly contemplating the
strangers. Suddenly he turned again, and his steely eyes fixed
themselves on the troubled Minky.

"Say, things is gettin' on your nerves. It ain't yet. Those folks is
only lookin' fer pointers."

"An' findin' 'em?"

"Mebbe. But it takes time. Say, we ain't dead in Suffering Creek yet.
I'll be around before--"

"Trouble gits busy." Minky laughed hollowly.

"Sure. I'm most gener'ly around when trouble--gits busy. I'm made like
that."

"I'm glad."

Bill drank up the remains of his drink and began to move away.

"Wher' you going now?" inquired Minky.

"See my plugs fed an' watered, and then gittin' around my shack. I've
got to see some folks before I hit the trail. Say, I ain't got big
enough wad. Best hand me a couple o' thousand."

Minky dived under his counter, and, after fumbling for some time,
reappeared with the required sum in United States currency.

"Good luck," he said, as he passed it across the counter cautiously.

"Thanks. An', say--see the boys keep a close eye on Zip--an' the kids.
So long."

He moved away, but instead of passing out of the front door he
disappeared into the dining-room at the back.

CHAPTER XV

THE TRUST AT WORK

Wild Bill's hut presented an unusually animated appearance. The
customary oil-lamp was receiving the sup