hy, that's Ashby!"

"Oh, if--" began the Sheriff and stopped. The next instant the Wells
Fargo Agent, a cool, triumphant look on his face, stood framed in the
doorway. With a hasty movement towards him Rance asked tensely: "Did you
get him?"

The answer came back, almost before the question was asked:

"Yes--we've got him."

"Not Johnson?" demanded Sonora, truculently.

"Yes, Johnson," affirmed the Wells Fargo Agent with a hard laugh, his
eyes the while upon Handsome, who, unaided, was lifting a heavy cask to
a bench nearby.

"Not alive?" questioned Trinidad, unwilling to trust his own ears.

"You bet!" was Ashby's sententious confirmation, at which pandemonium
broke loose, Nick alone appearing dejected and morose-looking. For his
love and devotion to the Girl were too genuine to permit of his taking
any part whatsoever in what he believed was opposed to her happiness. On
the other hand, Rance, as may be inferred, was inwardly rejoicing,
though when he perceived that Nick was eyeing him steadily he was
careful to lower his eyes lest the little barkeeper should see the
triumph shining beneath them. And, finally, unable to bear Nick's
scrutiny any longer, he explained with a feeble attempt at self-defence:

"Well, I didn't do it, Nick, I didn't do it." But a moment later, his
face hard and set, he added: "Now he be damned! There's an end of
Johnson!"

The words were hardly out of his mouth, however, than Johnson, his arms
bound, followed by the Deputy, strode into the room with the courage of
one who has long faced death, and stood before the men who glared at him
with fire in their eyes and murder in their hearts.

"How do you do, Mr. Johnson. I think, Mr. Johnson, five minutes will do
for you." Rance gave to the words a peculiar accent and inflection, but
this caused the prisoner to look even more composed and calm than
before; he returned crisply:

"I think so."

"So this is the gentleman the Girl loves?" Sonora's face wore a cruel
grin as he stood with arms folded leering at the prisoner.

The biting humour of the thought appealed to Rance, and he smiled grimly
to himself.

"That's the gentleman"--he was saying when a voice outside broke in upon
his words with:

"Nick! Boys! Boys!"

"It's the Girl!" cried Nick in dismay, at the same time rushing over to
the door to intercept her; while Ashby, desirous of preventing any
communication between the Girl and the prisoner took up a position
between the