devilment when he first came down here. He heard him talking to Saunders
in Pete Hamilton's stable. And the first night he was here, Peppajee and
I saw him down at the stable at midnight, talking to someone. Peppajee
kept on his trail till he got that snake bite, and he warned me a
plenty. But I didn't take much stock in it--or if I did--" He lifted his
shoulders expressively.

"So," he went on, after a minute of bitter thinking, "I want you to keep
out of this. You know how your mother would feel--You don't want to get
foolish. You can keep an eye on them--to-night especially. I've an idea
they're waiting for dark; and if I knew why, I'd be a lot to the good.
And if I knew why old Baumberger took your father off so suddenly,
why--I'd be wiser than I am now." He lifted his hat, brushed the
moisture from his forehead, and gave a grunt of disapproval when his
eyes rested on Jack.

"What yuh loaded down like that for?" he demanded. "You fellows better
put those guns in cold storage. I'm like Baumberger in one respect--we
don't want any violence!" He grinned without any feeling of mirth.

"Something else is liable to be put in cold storage first," Wally
hinted, significantly. "I must say I like this standing around and
looking dangerous, without making a pass! I wish something would break
loose somewhere."

"I notice you're packing yours, large as life," Jack pointed out. "Maybe
you're just wearing it for an ornament, though."

"Sure!" Good Indian, feeling all at once the utter futility of standing
there talking, left them grumbling over their forced inaction, without
explaining where he was going, or what he meant to do. Indeed, he
scarcely knew himself. He was in that uncomfortable state of mind where
one feels that one must do something, without having the faintest idea
of what that something is, or how it is to be done. It seemed to him
that they were all in the same mental befuddlement, and it seemed
impossible to stay on the ranch another hour without making a hostile
move of some sort--and he knew that, when he did make a move, he at
least ought to know why he did it.

The note in his pocket gave him an excuse for action of some sort, even
though he felt sure that nothing would come of it; at least, he thought,
he would have a chance to discuss the thing with Miss Georgie again--and
while he was not a man who must have everything put into words, he had
found comfort and a certain clarity of thought in talking w