s. Come on,
folks!"

The little marshal knew his business, and it was also evident that the
crowd knew the little marshal. Drunk and quarrelsome as many of them
were, they made way--the more obstreperous sullenly, but the majority
in a spirit of rough good humour. The time had not come for war
against authority, and even the most reckless were fully aware that
there was a law-and-order party in Haskell, ready and willing to back
their officer to the limit. Few were drunk enough as yet to openly
defy his authority and face the result, as most of them had previously
seen him in action. To the girl it was all terrifying enough--the
rough, hairy faces, the muttered threats, the occasional oath, the
jostling figures--but the two men, one on each side of her, accepted
the situation coolly enough, neither touching the revolver at his belt,
but, sternly thrusting aside those in their way, they pressed straight
through the surging mass in the man-crowded lobby of the disreputable
hotel.

The building itself was a barnlike structure, unpainted, but with a
rude, unfinished veranda in front. One end contained a saloon, crowded
with patrons, but the office, revealed in the glare of a smoky lamp,
disclosed a few occupants, a group of men about a card-table.

At the desk, wide-eyed with excitement, Miss Donovan took a
service-worn pen proffered by landlord Pete Timmons, whose grey
whiskers were as unkempt as his hotel, and registered her name.

"A telegram came to-day for you, ma'am," Peter said in a cracked voice,
and tossed it over.

Miss Donovan tore it open. It was from Farriss. It read:

If any clues, advise immediately. Willis digging hard. Letter of
instruction follows.

FARRISS.

The girl folded the message, thrust it in her jacket-pocket, then
turning to the marshal and Westcott, gave each a firm hand.

"You've both been more than kind," she said gratefully.

"Hell, ma'am," Dan deprecated, "that warn't nothin'!" And he hurried
into the street as loud cries sounded outside.

"Good night, Miss Donovan," Westcott said simply. "If you are ever
frightened or in need of a friend, call on me. I'll be in town two
days yet, and after that Pete here can get word to me." Then, with an
admiring, honest gaze, he searched her eyes a moment before he turned
and strolled toward the rude cigar-case.

"All right, now, ma'am?" Pete Timmons said, picking, up her valise.
The girl nodded, and together they went up