not followed them. Sandy swiftly socketed the bolt on the
inside of the front door, turned the key and slid that into his pocket.

"Now we'll go out the back way," he said. "I ain't strong fo' playin'
crawfish, Sam, but I ain't keen on bein' potted in the dark. I'll bet
what I got in my pocket Butch is huggin' the boards to one side of this
shack. I got too much money on me to be a good insurance risk."

Sam chuckled. Plimsoll met them just inside the door.

"Makin' a short cut," said Sandy. "Good night."

As the pair went out at the rear, Plimsoll jumped into the front room.
Sam, closing the back door behind them noiselessly, heard the gambler
cursing at the bolted door. Silently as a cat, he covered the short
distance between the house and the arroyo of the creek and disappeared,
merged in its shadow. Sandy joined him and they made their way swiftly
along the bottom, climbing the bank where the railroad bridge crossed
it, striking off for the main street, lit by sputtery arc-lamps, making
for their ponies, still standing patiently outside the all-night
restaurant.

"No sense in runnin' our heads into a flyin' noose," said Sandy.
"Plimsoll owns the sheriff. Married his sister. We'd be wrong whatever
stahted. They'd frisk me of my roll an' we'd never see it ag'in, less we
made a runnin' fight of it. Wondeh how much eddication costs nowadays,
Sam? What you laffin' at?"

"Butch an' the rest of Plimsoll's gunmen holdin' up the shack, waitin'
fo' us to come out, while Plim is huntin' that key."

"Don't laff too hard till we git home," said Sandy. "It's eleven miles
to the Three Star."

They mounted, swung their horses and loped off toward the bridge across
the creek. There were two spans, one built since the advent of
automobiles, the other ancient, little used. They headed for the
latter. Passing the end of the street they saw nothing out of the
ordinary. The door of the "Good Luck" was open, shown by a square of
light. A group stood outside. Sandy and Sam rode off, the ponies' hoofs
silent in the soft thick dust; moving shadows in the twilight, merging
with the dark.

CHAPTER V

IN THE BED OF THE CREEK

The old bridge, utilized only by wheels with metal tires these days, and
by riders, opened a short-cut to the road leading to the Three Star, a
way hardly to be distinguished from the plain. Sandy was minded to get
back to the ranch as soon as possible with his winnings. Five thousand
for Molly, five