aving-cup, and an old tin
cup.

"The express ought to pass in about ten minutes," said Tom, and then
began the usual chat about the commonplaces of farm life, about the
crops, and the price of cattle, while hunting anecdotes followed. Now
and then Tom listened through the open door for sounds of the express,
which was long overdue, till suddenly the back door was slammed shut by
the wind.

It was Bill Parker's turn to treat, and he then told of how he had sold
his foals at a good profit, and Bob launched out into all sorts of vague
hints as to a big deal that he expected to pull off at Pendleton the
next day. Bill kept an eye on his two horses, which he could just see
through the window in the rear wall of the shanty.

"Don't let them run away from you," warned Tom; "horses as fresh as
those generally skip off when the express passes by."

"Nothing like that!" said Bill Parker, glancing again through the open
window, "but they are unusually restless just the same."

... "He was willing to give twenty dollars, was he?" asked Tom, resuming
the former conversation.

But Bill gave no answer and continued to stare out of the window.

"Here's how, gentlemen!" cried Tom encouragingly, touching Bill's tin
cup with his shaving-cup.

"Excuse me a minute," answered the latter; "I want to look after my--"
He had got up and was moving toward the door, but stopped halfway,
staring fixedly at the open window with a glassy expression in his eyes.
The other two regarded him with unfeigned astonishment, but when they
followed the direction of his glance, they also started with fright as
they looked through the window.

Yes, it was the same window as before, and beyond it stood the same team
of stamping, snorting horses before the same cart; but on the ledge of
the window there rested two objects like black, bristling hedgehogs, and
under their prickly skins glistened two pairs of hostile eyes, and
slowly and cautiously two gun-barrels were pushed over the ledge of the
window into the room. At the same moment the door-knob moved, the door
was pushed open, and in the blinding sunlight which suddenly poured into
the room appeared two more men in khaki clothes and also armed with
guns. "Hands up, gentlemen!" cried one of them threateningly.

The three obeyed the order mechanically, Tom unconsciously holding up
his shaving-cup as well, so that the good whisky flowed down his arm
into his coat. He looked utterly foolish. Bill was t