wn, are spitted, and soon frizzling in the
fire's blaze; while the robbers gather around, knives in hand, each
intending to carve for himself.

As they are about to commence their Homeric repast, Borlasse and the
others ride up. Dismounting and striding in among the tents, the chief
glances inquiringly around, his glance soon changing to disappointment.
What he looks for is not there! "Quantrell and Bosley," he asks, "ain't
they got here?"

"No, capting," answers one. "They hain't showed yet."

"And you've seen nothin' of them?"

"Nary thing."

His eyes light up with angry suspicion. Again doubts he the fidelity of
Darke, or rather is he now certain that the lieutenant is a traitor.

Uttering a fearful oath, he steps inside his tent, taking Chisholm along
with him.

"What can it mean, Luke?" he asks, pouring out a glass of brandy, and
gulping it down.

"Hanged if I can tell, cap. It looks like you was right in supposin'
they're gin us the slip. Still it's queery too, whar they could a goed,
and wharf ore they should."

"There's nothing so strange about the wherefore; that's clear enough to
me. I suspected Richard Darke, _alias_ Phil Quantrell, would play me
false some day, though I didn't expect it so soon. He don't want his
beauty brought here, lest some of the boys might be takin' a fancy to
her. That's one reason, but not all. There's another--to a man like
him 'most as strong. He's rich, leastaways his dad is, an' he can get
as much out o' the old 'un as he wants,--will have it all in time. He
guesses I intended squeezin' him; an' thar he was about right, for I
did. I'd lay odds that's the main thing has moved him to cut clear o'
us."

"A darned mean trick if it is. You gied him protection when he was
chased by the sheriffs, an' now--"

"Now, he won't need it; though he don't know that; can't, I think. If
he but knew he ain't after all a murderer! See here, Luke; he may turn
up yet. An' if so, for the life o' ye, ye mustn't tell him who it was
we dibbled into the ground up thar. I took care not to let any of them
hear his name. You're the only one as knows it."

"Ye can trust me, cap. The word Clancy won't pass through my teeth,
till you gie me leave to speak it."

"Ha!" exclaims Borlasse, suddenly struck with an apprehension. "I never
thought of the mulatto. He may have let it out?"

"He mayn't, however!"

"If not, he shan't now. I'll take care he don't have the chance."