Old "saws" were not for him. The world-old advice
to the would-be interferer might be for those of less thought, less
tact. Besides, he had no intention of interfering. He only meant to
"stand by." That was the key-note of his whole nature, his whole
life.

And the night had revealed so much to him. His horizon was bounded by
storm-clouds threatening unconscious lives. There they were banking,
banking, low down, so as to be almost invisible, and he knew that they
were only waiting a favoring breeze to mount up into the heavens into
one vast black mass. And then the breaking of the storm. His calm
brain was for once feverishly at work. Those three must somehow be
herded to shelter; and he wondered how. His first play had proved
abortive, and now he wondered.

It was his intention to return to his hut for the night, and he stood
for a moment contemplating the dark village. His busy thoughts decided
for him that there was nothing further to be done to-night. He told
himself that opportunity must be his guide in the riddle with which
he was confronted. He must rush nothing, and he felt, somehow, that
the opportunity would come. He turned his eyes in the direction of his
home, and as he was about to move off he became aware of a footstep
crossing the market-place toward him. He waited. The sound came from
the direction of the saloon, and, as he gazed that way, he saw the
lights in the building go out one by one. The person approaching was
one of the "boys" homeward bound.

He was half inclined to continue on his way and thus avoid the
probably drunken man, but something held him, and a moment later he
was glad when he saw the figure of Jim Thorpe loom up. As they came
into view of each other Thorpe hesitated. Nor was it till he
recognized the huge outline of Peter that he came close up.

"That you, Peter?" he said.

And Peter, listening, recognized that Jim was sober.

"Yes," he replied, "just going home."

"Me, too."

There was a brief pause after that, and both men were thinking of the
same thing. It was of the scene recently enacted at the saloon. Peter
was the one to break the silence, and he ignored that which was in his
thoughts.

"Goin' to the ranch on foot, and by way of Eve's shack," he said in
his gently humorous fashion.

"Ye-es," responded Jim after a moment's thought. Then he added with a
conscious laugh, "My 'plug' is back there at Rocket's tie-post,
waiting, saddled." Then he went on, becoming s