n
falling. When he spoke there was not a cloud in the sky. "It's going
to rain to-night, just the same," predicted Scott. "Don't leave the
trees till it gets going. Those Gap scouts will get under cover and be
hunting for a drink the minute it gets cold--I know them. You can ride
right over their toes, if you'll be patient."

The sun set across the range in a drift of grayish-black, low-lying
clouds, which seemed only to await its disappearance to envelop the
mountains and empty their moisture on the desert. By the time de Spain
and Lefever reached the end of their long ride a misty rain was
drifting down from the west. The two men had just ridden into the
quaking asps when a man coming out of the Gap almost rode into them.
The intruders had halted and were sufficiently hidden to escape
notice, had not Lefever's horse indiscreetly coughed. The man from the
Gap reined up and called out. Lefever answered.

"It's Bull Page," declared de Spain, after the exchange of a few
words, calling to Bull at the same time to come over to the shelter of
the trees.

"What's going on in there, Bull?" asked de Spain after Bull had told
him that Gale had driven him out, and he was heading for Calabasas.

"You tell," retorted Page. "Looks to me like old Duke's getting ready
to die. Gale says he's going to draw his will to-night, and don't
want nobody around--got old Judge Druel in there."

De Spain pricked up his ears. "What's that, Druel?" he demanded. Bull
repeated his declaration. Lefever broke into violent language at the
Sleepy Cat jurist's expense, and ended by declaring that no will
should be drawn in the Gap that night by Duke Morgan or anybody else,
unless he and Bull were made legatees.

Beyond this nothing could be learned from Bull, who was persuaded
without difficulty by Lefever to abandon the idea of riding to
Calabasas through the rain, and to spend the night with him in the
neighborhood, wherever fancy, the rain, and the wind--which was
rising--should dictate.

While the two were talking de Spain tried to slip away, unobserved by
Lefever, on his errand. He failed, as he expected to, and after some
familiar abuse, rode off alone, fortified by every possible suggestion
at the hands of a man to whom the slightest precaution was usually a
joke.

Mountains never look blacker than when one rides into them conscious
of the presence of enemies and alert for signs and sounds. But custom
dulls the edge of apprehension. De S