er the group. Even in their trepidation the completeness
of their leader's programme over-awed them. Werner alone, driven by
his fears, forgot to await the formal dismissal that was the main
feature of the ritual, and started away. Koppy waved him back angrily.

"One thing--remember!" He glared about on them.

"There's a hundred and one I'm trying to remember before I kick the
bucket," murmured Werner. "But all I seem to get is a picture of a
thousand bullets meanderin' about loose to-morrow night in the dark at
midnight, and the worst of them's not going to be going away from us."

The leader closed the mouth of the fearful one with a look.

"Remember"--the grimness of Koppy's tone was a threat--"the girl's
mine."

"First catch your fish," muttered Werner.

"All the others, kill. But the girl--must not--be hurt! Understand?"

"Not till you get your ugly paws on her!" said Werner with a
significant leer.

CHAPTER XXV

BLUE PETE AND WHISKERS TO THE RESCUE

All the way back to the cave Blue Pete pondered over the situation.
The attack was four days off. There was little time if the I.W.W.
plans were to be defeated with certainty and completeness.
Reinforcements must be brought from other Police posts--therein alone
lay certain safety.

The halfbreed hesitated before the idea of more Mounted Police about
until he had completed his work; and they might be summoned any time by
wire from the gravel pit at Mile 135, where a ticker had just been
installed for the work of filling in the trestle. Also he paused
before the indignity of calling in reinforcements to defeat a lot of
blundering fools and cowards. Deep within him was the conviction that
nothing more was required than his own unerring rifle. Only the matter
of those ninety-two rifles and the presence of Tressa Torrance forced
him to consider the situation worthy of prolonged thought. He decided
to take the night to think it over. To-morrow after dark would be
ample time to carry out any plan that seemed wise.

The result of a wakeful night was the decision to carry the story to
Torrance and leave the rest in his hands. That plan, too, fitted in
with certain undefined ambitions of his own. He did not want the
Police to know far enough ahead to nip the whole affair in the bud.
Blue Pete loved a scrap; he had also certain definite debts to pay to
Koppy, and the thought of a lot of bohunks within range of a licensed
rifle made him smile h