der me?"

"Yes," and Damer glanced at Horton. "You have got that down? At first
he only hired me to go up to Somasco and watch you while I worked for
you. You're a tolerably smart man, Harry Alton, but it's kind of
curious you didn't know me."

Alton stared at the drawn face with a bewildered expression, and then
moved a trifle in his chair. "Good Lord!" he said. "Black Nailer's
partner! Well, I didn't see you that often--and it was dark when----"

Damer's face went awry with pain, but his gesture implied comprehension.

"Yes," he said feebly. "When you got him with the axe. Nailer had
been on the whisky, and that gun of his was a little stiff on the
magazine-spring; but he was the best partner I ever had, and I left a
good claim behind when you and the boys chased me right out of that
part of Washington. Now you've got the beginning. Give me a little
more brandy."

The doctor came forward softly and held a glass to the cracked lips,
then lifted the dying man a little. After that there was silence for
at least five minutes, and Alton sat rigidly still, choking down his
fierce impatience as he saw his last hope slipping away from him. Then
he drew in his breath with a quivering sigh as the feeble voice
commenced again.

"Get it down. You haven't much time."

Horton's pen scratched and spluttered, as sinking now and then almost
beyond hearing, the disjointed words fell from the lips that could
scarcely frame them; but it was nevertheless with a horrible vividness
that Damer told his story, and those who sat listening gasped with
relief when at last it was finished and everything was plain. Then he
signed to the doctor, who raised his head a trifle and once more held a
glass to his lips.

"Read it. I want to see you've got it straight," he said. For a space
Horton's voice rose and fell monotonously as he read in haste. Then he
approached the bed with the paper, and the dying man seized the pen.
He traced a few straggling characters upon the document, and let it
fall again, watched with strained impatience while Horton and the
surveyor signed, and then turned his head from the light.

"Now," he said, "I guess I've fixed the man who held the whip over me
up quite tight."

It was probably ten minutes before he moved again, and then he signed
to Alton very feebly with his fingers, while a curious look that
afterwards puzzled the rancher, who could not forget it, crept into his
eyes. There was vin