ll do it, Jim. I seen that Carmichael at Magdalena some years ago.
Then he was only a youngster. But, whew! Mebbe he wasn't bad after
toyin' with a little red liquor."

"Shore. He was from Texas, she said."

"Jim, I savvied your feelin's was hurt--by thet talk about Texas--an'
when she up an' asked you."

Wilson had no rejoinder for this remark.

"Wal, Lord knows, I ain't wonderin'. You wasn't a hunted outlaw all
your life. An' neither was I.... Wilson, I never was keen on this girl
deal--now, was I?"

"I reckon it's honest to say no to thet," replied Wilson. "But it's
done. Beasley 'll get plugged sooner or later. Thet won't help us any.
Chasin' sheep-herders out of the country an' stealin' sheep--thet ain't
stealin' gurls by a long sight. Beasley 'll blame that on us, an' be
greaser enough to send some of his men out to hunt us. For Pine an' Show
Down won't stand thet long. There's them Mormons. They'll be hell when
they wake up. Suppose Carmichael got thet hunter Dale an' them hawk-eyed
Beemans on our trail?"

"Wal, we'd cash in--quick," replied Anson, gruffly.

"Then why didn't you let me take the gurl back home?"

"Wal, come to think of thet, Jim, I'm sore, an' I need money--an' I
knowed you'd never take a dollar from her sister. An' I've made up my
mind to git somethin' out of her."

"Snake, you're no fool. How 'll you do thet same an' do it quick?"

"'Ain't reckoned it out yet."

"Wal, you got aboot to-morrer an' thet's all," returned Wilson,
gloomily.

"Jim, what's ailin' you?"

"I'll let you figger thet out."

"Wal, somethin' ails the whole gang," declared Anson, savagely.
"With them it's nothin' to eat--no whisky--no money to bet with--no
tobacco!... But thet's not what's ailin' you, Jim Wilson, nor me!"

"Wal, what is, then?" queried Wilson.

"With me it's a strange feelin' thet my day's over on these ranges. I
can't explain, but it jest feels so. Somethin' in the air. I don't like
them dark shadows out there under the spruces. Savvy?... An' as fer you,
Jim--wal, you allus was half decent, an' my gang's got too lowdown fer
you."

"Snake, did I ever fail you?"

"No, you never did. You're the best pard I ever knowed. In the years
we've rustled together we never had a contrary word till I let Beasley
fill my ears with his promises. Thet's my fault. But, Jim, it's too
late."

"It mightn't have been too late yesterday."

"Mebbe not. But it is now, an' I'll hang on to the girl or git her