the officers you've elected for that purpose. They won't
get off. Hank Graves says they will hang if it takes every hoof he owns.
He said he would bring Bowman down here to help prosecute them. I don't
know Bowman--"

"I do," a voice spoke, somewhere in the darkness. "Lawyer from Helena.
Never lost a case."

"I'm glad to hear it, for he's the man that will prosecute. They haven't
a ghost of a show to get out of it. Lauman here is responsible for their
safe keeping and I guess, now that he knows them better, we needn't be
afraid they'll escape again. And it's as Lauman said; he'll hang them
quite as dead as you can. He's drawing a salary to do these things, make
him earn it. It's a nasty job, boys, and you wouldn't get anything out
of it but a nasty memory."

A hand that did not feel like the hand of a man rested for an instant on
his arm. Mona brushed by him and stepped out where the rising moon shone
on her hair and into her big, blue-gray eyes.

"I wish you all would please go away," she said. "You are making mamma
sick. She's got it in her head that you are going to do something awful,
and I can't convince her you're not. I told her you wouldn't do anything
so sneaking, but she's awfully nervous about it. Won't you please go,
right now?"

They looked sheepishly at one another; every man of them feared the
ridicule of his neighbor.

"Why, sure we'll go," cried Park, rallying. "We were going anyway in a
minute. Tell your mother we were just congratulating Lauman on rounding
up these Wagners. Come on, boys. And you, Bud, hurry up and get well
again; we miss yuh round the Lazy Eight."

The three who were sitting on Lauman got up, and he gave a sigh of
relief. "Say, yuh darned cowpunchers don't have no mercy on an old man's
carcass at all," he groaned, in exaggerated self-pity. "Next time yuh
want to congratulate me, I wish you'd put it in writing and send it by
mail."

A little ripple of laughter went through the crowd. Then they swung up
on their horses and galloped away in the moonlight.

CHAPTER VIII. A QUESTION OF NERVE

"That was your victory, Miss Stevens. Allow me to congratulate you." If
Thurston showed any ill grace in his tone it was without intent. But it
did seem unfortunate that just as he was waxing eloquent and felt sure
of himself and something of a hero, Mona should push him aside as though
he were of no account and disperse a bunch of angry cowboys with half a
dozen words.

She looke