peared. Three
Sisters of Charity stood at the footboard of his bed. They were
looking down on him with sorrowful eyes. One of them lifted her hand
and all was a livid flame. Amos raised his head and gave one prolonged
shriek. A shriek of death.

When Amos returned to Saguache after his spree with Rayder his first
act was to purchase a ranch in the San Luis valley and deed it to his
wife. He then went to his assay office and drew down the blinds and
sat in the shadows like a cunning old spider in hiding waiting for
the unwary fly for which he had wove his web. His life had been that
of the iconoclast who creates nothing to adorn the world's great
gallery of gods. But he was not philosophical enough to evolve an idea
that would disrupt existing beliefs.

It was some weeks after his arrival home, when he espied Rayder one
morning coming down the street towards his office. He cautiously
turned the key in his office and slipped over to the Bucket of Blood
and returned with some beer and two quart bottles of whisky. When
Rayder returned an hour later he was maudlin drunk.

Rayder was still pale from the effects of his recent debauch and when
he found Amos in an intoxicated condition he went away, not caring to
stay and talk with him on important business matters lest he should
get drawn into another spree. Meanwhile, Carson had arrived and spread
the news of the imprisoned miners under the snow slide. Rayder learned
that this was the mine he had come to purchase through the connivance
of Amos and concluded to wait and see what time would develop.

Day after day he sought Amos, but the latter was too drunk to talk
with any sense. He then sought Carson and offered financial assistance
in the rescue work, but the men spurned the offer. They felt they were
doing a God-given duty and to receive money for an act of that kind
would be debasing their manhood. Such was it then and such is now the
spirit of the West. He called at the Amos home, and while he was
received by the matron and failed to see Annie, he thought he detected
an air of distress in the surroundings, and attributed it to Amos'
condition. Feeling that he was at their home at an inopportune time,
he went away and started out to find Amos and if possible persuade him
to quit drinking. Not finding him at his office he took a nearer route
and entered the Bucket of Blood by the back door. He passed two or
three hoboes sitting on beer kegs on the outside. "Say, old tim