ing
with every muscle ready and every nerve under tension, flung aside his
blanket and hurled himself at the guard. It took him less time than it
takes to tell to wrest the gun from the cook.

He got to his feet just as Big Bill, his eyes and brain still fogged
with sleep, sat up and began to take notice of the disturbance.

"Don't move," warned Holt sharply. "Better throw your hands up. You
reach for the stars, too, Holway. No monkey business, do you hear? I'd
as lief blow a hole through you as not."

Big Bill turned bitterly upon Elliot. "So you were faking all the time,
young fellow. We save your life and you round on us. You're a pretty
slick proposition as a double-crosser."

"And that ain't all," chirped up Holt blithely. "Let me introduce our
friend to you, Mr. Big Bill Macy. This is Gordon Elliot, the land agent
appointed to look over the Kamatlah claims. Selfridge gave you lads this
penitentiary job so as I wouldn't meet Elliot when he reached the camp.
If he hadn't been so darned anxious about it, our young friend would
have died here on the divide. But Mr. Selfridge kindly outfitted a party
and sent us a hundred miles into the hills to rescue the perishing, as
the old sayin' goes. Consequence is, Elliot and me meet up and have that
nice confidential talk after all. The ways of Providence is strange, as
you might say, Mr. Macy."

"Your trick," conceded Big Bill sullenly. "Now what are you going to do
with us?"

"Not a thing--going to leave you right here to prospect Wild-Goose
Creek," answered Holt blandly. "Durden says there's gold up here--heaps
of it."

Bill Macy condemned Durden in language profane and energetic. He didn't
stop at Durden. Holt came in for a share of it, also Elliot and
Selfridge.

The old miner grinned at him. "You'll feel better now you've got that
out of your system. But don't stop there if you'd like to say a few more
well-chosen words. We got time a-plenty."

"Cut it out, Bill. That line o' talk don't buy you anything," said
Holway curtly. "What's the use of beefing?"

"Now you're shouting, my friend," agreed old Gideon. "I guess, Elliot,
you can loosen up on the chef's throat awhile. He's had persuading
enough, don't you reckon? I'll sit here and sorter keep the boys company
while you cut the pack-ropes and bring 'em here. But first I'd step in
and unload all the hardware they're packing. If you don't one of them is
likely to get anxious. I'd hate to see any of them commi