ar the
tent by the others. They all stood talking low till a noise of
scuffling broke the silence within. They drew nearer, and heard the
Colonel telling Maudie not to turn out Nig and Kaviak.

"I like seein' my friends. Where's the Boy?"

So they went in.

Did he know? He must know, or he would have asked O'Flynn what the
devil made him look like that! All he said was: "Hello! How do you do,
madam?" and he made a weak motion of one hand towards Mrs. O'Flynn to
do duty for that splendid bow of his. Then, as no one spoke, "You're
too late, O'Flynn."

"Too late?"

"Had a job in your line...." Then suddenly: "Maudie's worth the whole
lot of you."

They knew it was his way of saying "She's told me." They all sat and
looked at the floor. Nothing happened for a long time. At last: "Well,
you all know what my next move is; what's yours?"

There was another silence, but not nearly so long.

"What prospects, pardners?" he repeated.

The Boy looked at Maudie. She made a little gesture of "I've done all
the fightin' I'm good for." The Colonel's eyes, clear again and
tranquil, travelled from face to face.

O'Flynn cleared his throat, but it was Mac who spoke.

"Yes--a--we would like to hold a last--hold a counsel o' war. We've
always kind o' followed your notions--at least"--veracity pared down
the compliment--"at least, you can't say but what we've always listened
to you."

"Yes, you might just--a--start us as well as you can," says Potts.

The Colonel smiled a little. Each man still "starting"--forever
starting for somewhere or something, until he should come to this place
where the Colonel was. Even he, why, he was "starting" too. For him
this was no end other than a chapter's ending. But these men he had
lived and suffered with, they all wanted to talk the next move
over--not his, theirs--all except the Boy, it seemed.

Mac was in the act of changing his place to be nearer the Colonel, when
Potts adroitly forestalled him. The others drew off a little and made
desultory talk, while Potts in an undertone told how he'd had a run of
bad luck. No doubt it would turn, but if ever he got enough again to
pay his passage home, he'd put it in the bank and never risk it.

"I swear I wouldn't! I've got to go out in the fall--goin' to get
myself married Christmas; and, if she's willing, we'll come up here on
the first boat in the spring--with backing this time."

He showed a picture. The Colonel studied it.

"I believ