through the
mists of hurt, boyish pride, to perceive realities undistorted by
youthful grievances. Angus might not have been tactful--but he had been
right. And he, Turkey, instead of helping his own had deserted them.

In Turkey's inner being sounded the rallying call of the blood. It was
no time for family feuds. If he had been a young fool, he would make up
for it. He would play a lone hand, taking his time, and he would play
more than even. But now he must not lose a word.

"The old man's pretty darn smooth," Poole went on. "Take that time he
lent Mackay money to make good them bets he was holdin'. That put Mackay
further in the hole to him. It's lucky Mackay don't know who rapped him
on the head and rolled him that night. You get a feller like him on the
prod, and I'd rather take chances on a mad grizzly. You take that kid
brother of his, too. There's a bad actor. You can see it in his eye."

"He's just a young fool," Garland said contemptuously. "He hates his
brother like poison. I wish he'd blown his head off. There was some sort
of a gun play, I know."

"And that's what I'm tellin' you. The big man would kill a man with his
hands, but the kid would go for a gun fast and quiet. If he knew he'd
been trailed home that night he was full and the stack fired, there'd be
trouble."

"If the stable had gone with the hay it would have thrown a crimp into
Mackay. I don't savvy why it didn't go. The wind was right."

Suddenly the blackness of the back wall of the building opposite was
split by a slot of light, revealing a railed landing on a level with the
second story. A bulky figure stepped out and the light disappeared. Came
the creak of wooden steps beneath a heavy body. Garland swore softly.

"There he is now!"

"The old man?"

"Sure. There's an outside flight of steps from the back up to his room.
I wonder what he's up to. Douse our light for a minute."

The light in the next room went out and Turkey drew back. His neighbors
evidently occupied the window. From the darkness beneath came the sound
of a badly-hung door rasping on its hinges.

"There's a shed down there he keeps a lot of old plunder in," Garland
observed.

A silence of minutes and the door rasped again. Following that came a
series of metallic sounds and once more the creak of steps. The slot of
light of an open doorway appeared again. The bulky figure showed in it,
carrying some heavy object hung in its right hand. Then the door
closed, a