however, did not at once see the girl preening
herself and smoothing her long hair in a way calculated to startle.

"Busted!" ejaculated Anson, with a curse, as he slammed down his cards.
"If I ain't hoodooed I'm a two-bit of a gambler!"

"Sartin you're hoodooed," said Shady Jones, in scorn. "Is thet jest
dawnin' on you?"

"Boss, you play like a cow stuck in the mud," remarked Moze,
laconically.

"Fellars, it ain't funny," declared Anson, with pathetic gravity. "I'm
jest gittin' on to myself. Somethin's wrong. Since 'way last fall no
luck--nothin' but the wust end of everythin'. I ain't blamin' anybody.
I'm the boss. It's me thet's off."

"Snake, shore it was the gurl deal you made," rejoined Wilson, who had
listened. "I told you. Our troubles hev only begun. An' I can see the
wind-up. Look!"

Wilson pointed to where the girl stood, her hair flying wildly all over
her face and shoulders. She was making most elaborate bows to an old
stump, sweeping the ground with her tresses in her obeisance.

Anson started. He grew utterly astounded. His amaze was ludicrous. And
the other two men looked to stare, to equal their leader's bewilderment.

"What 'n hell's come over her?" asked Anson, dubiously. "Must hev perked
up.... But she ain't feelin' thet gay!"

Wilson tapped his forehead with a significant finger.

"Shore I was scared of her this mawnin'," he whispered.

"Naw!" exclaimed Anson, incredulously.

"If she hain't queer I never seen no queer wimmin," vouchsafed Shady
Jones, and it would have been judged, by the way he wagged his head,
that he had been all his days familiar with women.

Moze looked beyond words, and quite alarmed.

"I seen it comin'," declared Wilson, very much excited. "But I was
scared to say so. You-all made fun of me aboot her. Now I shore wish I
had spoken up."

Anson nodded solemnly. He did not believe the evidence of his sight,
but the facts seemed stunning. As if the girl were a dangerous and
incomprehensible thing, he approached her step by step. Wilson followed,
and the others appeared drawn irresistibly.

"Hey thar--kid!" called Anson, hoarsely.

The girl drew her slight form up haughtily. Through her spreading
tresses her eyes gleamed unnaturally upon the outlaw leader. But she
deigned not to reply.

"Hey thar--you Rayner girl!" added Anson, lamely. "What's ailin' you?"

"My lord! did you address me?" she asked, loftily.

Shady Jones got over his consternation and evide