if I care
whether you are a Mormon or not. I'll bet a hoss Holderness will back me
up."

"Snap, he's right," put in Holderness, smoothly. "You needn't be so
touchy about Mescal. She's showed what little use she's got for you. If
you must rope her around like you do a mustang, be easy about it. Let's
have supper. Now, Mescal, you sit here on the bench and behave yourself.
I don't want you shooting up my camp."

Snap turned sullenly aside while Holderness seated Mescal near the
door and fetched her food and drink. The rustlers squatted round the
camp-fire, and conversation ceased in the business of the meal.

To Hare the scene had brought a storm of emotions. Joy at the sight
of Mescal, blessed relief to see her unscathed, pride in her fighting
spirit--these came side by side with gratitude to the kind
Nebraska rustler, strange deepening insight into Holderness's game,
unextinguishable white-hot hatred of Snap Naab. And binding all was
the ever-mounting will to rescue Mescal, which was held in check by
an inexorable judgment; he must continue to wait. And he did wait
with blind faith in the something to be, keeping ever in mind the last
resort--the rifle he clutched with eager hands. Meanwhile the darkness
descended, the fire sent forth a brighter blaze, and the rustlers
finished their supper. Mescal arose and stepped across the threshold of
the cabin door.

"Hold on!" ordered Snap, as he approached with swift strides. "Stick out
your hands!"

Some of the rustlers grumbled; and one blurted out: "Aw no, Snap, don't
tie her up--no!"

"Who says no?" hissed the Mormon, with snapping teeth. As he wheeled
upon them his Colt seemed to leap forward, and suddenly quivered at
arm's-length, gleaming in the ruddy fire-rays.

Holderness laughed in the muzzle of the weapon. "Go ahead, Snap, tie up
your lady love. What a tame little wife she's going to make you! Tie her
up, but do it without hurting her."

The rustlers growled or laughed at their leader's order. Snap turned
to his task. Mescal stood in the doorway and shrinkingly extended her
clasped hands. Holderness whirled to the fire with a look which betrayed
his game. Snap bound Mescal's hands securely, thrust her inside the
cabin, and after hesitating for a long moment, finally shut the door.

"It's funny about a woman, now, ain't it?" said Nebraska,
confidentially, to a companion. "One minnit she'll snatch you
bald-headed; the next, she'll melt in your mouth like su