!"

But this ruse of Nick's met with no greater success than his previous
efforts, for Rance, putting his foot down heavily upon the stove, voiced
a vigorous protest.

"All right," said the prisoner, resignedly. Nevertheless, his face
reflected his disappointment. Turning now to Nick he thanked him for his
efforts in his behalf.

"You must excuse Rance," remarked the little barkeeper with a
significant look at the Sheriff, "for bein' so small a man as to deny
the usual courtesies, but he ain't quite himself."

Weary of their cavilling, for he believed that in the end the Sheriff
would carry his point, and determined to go before his courage failed
him, Johnson made a movement towards the door. Speaking bravely, though
his voice trembled, he said:

"Come, boys--come."

But, odd as it may seem, Nick's words had taken root.

"Wait a minute," Rance temporised.

The prisoner halted.

"I don't know that I'm so small a man as to deny the usual courtesies,
since you put it that way," continued Rance. "I always have extended
them. But we'll hear what you have to say--that's our protection. And it
might interest some of us to hear what the Girl will have to say to you,
Mr. Johnson--after a week in her cabin there may be more to know than--"

Fire leapt to Johnson's eyes; he cried hoarsely--

"Stop!"

"Rance, you don't know what you're sayin'," resented Nick, casting hard
looks at him; while Sonora put a heavy hand upon the Sheriff and
threatened him with:

"Now, Rance, you stop that!"

"We'll hear every word he has to say," insisted the Sheriff, doggedly.

"You bet!" affirmed Trinidad.

"Nick! Nick!" called the Girl once more, and while the little barkeeper
went over to admit her the Wells Fargo Agent took his leave, calling
back after him:

"Well, boys, you've got him safe--I can't wait--I'm off!"

"Dep, untie the prisoner! Boys, circle round the bar! Trin, put a man at
that door! And Sonora, put a couple of men at those windows!" And so
swift were the men in carrying out his instructions, that even as he
spoke, everyone was at his post, the Sheriff himself and Sonora
remaining unseen but on guard at the doors, while the prisoner, edging
up close to the door, was not in evidence when the Girl entered.

"You can think of something to tell her--lie to her," had been the
Sheriff's parting suggestion.

"I'll let her think I risked coming back to see her again," had replied
the prisoner, his throat tremblin