ys depend on Hooven to lose
his head."

Five minutes passed, then ten. The road towards Guadalajara lay empty,
baking and white under the sun.

"Well, the marshal and S. Behrman don't seem to be in any hurry,
either."

"Shall I go forward and reconnoitre, Governor?" asked Harran.

But Dabney, who stood next to Annixter, touched him on the shoulder and,
without speaking, pointed down the road. Annixter looked, then suddenly
cried out:

"Here comes Hooven."

The German galloped into sight, around the turn of the road, his rifle
laid across his saddle. He came on rapidly, pulled up, and dismounted at
the ditch.

"Dey're commen," he cried, trembling with excitement. "I watch um long
dime bei der side oaf der roadt in der busches. Dey shtop bei der gate
oder side der relroadt trecks and talk long dime mit one n'udder. Den
dey gome on. Dey're gowun sure do zum monkey-doodle pizeness. Me, I see
Gritschun put der kertridges in his guhn. I tink dey gowun to gome MY
blace first. Dey gowun to try put me off, tek my home, bei Gott."

"All right, get down in here and keep quiet, Hooven. Don't fire
unless----"

"Here they are."

A half-dozen voices uttered the cry at once.

There could be no mistake this time. A buggy, drawn by two horses, came
into view around the curve of the road. Three riders accompanied it,
and behind these, seen at intervals in a cloud of dust were
two--three--five--six others.

This, then, was S. Behrman with the United States marshal and his posse.
The event that had been so long in preparation, the event which it had
been said would never come to pass, the last trial of strength, the last
fight between the Trust and the People, the direct, brutal grapple of
armed men, the law defied, the Government ignored, behold, here it was
close at hand.

Osterman cocked his revolver, and in the profound silence that had
fallen upon the scene, the click was plainly audible from end to end of
the line.

"Remember our agreement, gentlemen," cried Magnus, in a warning voice.
"Mr. Osterman, I must ask you to let down the hammer of your weapon."

No one answered. In absolute quiet, standing motionless in their places,
the Leaguers watched the approach of the marshal.

Five minutes passed. The riders came on steadily. They drew nearer.
The grind of the buggy wheels in the grit and dust of the road, and the
prolonged clatter of the horses' feet began to make itself heard. The
Leaguers could distinguish th