gone."

When Meeker had gone, Isbel and his men sat their horses and looked
about them and spoke low. Their advent had been expected, and the
little town awoke to the imminence of the impending battle. Inside
Meeker's house there was the sound of indistinct voices of women and
the bustle incident to a hurried vacating.

Across the wide road people were peering out on all sides, some hiding,
others walking to and fro, from fence to fence, whispering in little
groups. Down the wide road, at the point where it turned, stood
Greaves's fort-like stone house. Low, flat, isolated, with its dark,
eye-like windows, it presented a forbidding and sinister aspect. Jean
distinctly saw the forms of men, some dark, others in shirt sleeves,
come to the wide door and look down the road.

"Wal, I reckon only aboot five hundred good hoss steps are separatin'
us from that outfit," drawled Blaisdell.

No one replied to his jocularity. Gaston Isbel's eyes narrowed to a
slit in his furrowed face and he kept them fastened upon Greaves's
store. Blue, likewise, had a somber cast of countenance, not, perhaps,
any darker nor grimmer than those of his comrades, but more
representative of intense preoccupation of mind. The look of him
thrilled Jean, who could sense its deadliness, yet could not grasp any
more. Altogether, the manner of the villagers and the watchful pacing
to and fro of the Jorth followers and the silent, boding front of Isbel
and his men summed up for Jean the menace of the moment that must very
soon change to a terrible reality.

At a call from Meeker, who stood at the back of the cabin, Gaston Isbel
rode into the yard, followed by the others of his party. "Somebody
look after the hosses," ordered Isbel, as he dismounted and took his
rifle and pack. "Better leave the saddles on, leastways till we see
what's comin' off."

Jean and Bill Isbel led the horses back to the corral. While watering
and feeding them, Jean somehow received the impression that Bill was
trying to speak, to confide in him, to unburden himself of some load.
This peculiarity of Bill's had become marked when he was perfectly
sober. Yet he had never spoken or even begun anything unusual. Upon
the present occasion, however, Jean believed that his brother might
have gotten rid of his emotion, or whatever it was, had they not been
interrupted by Colmor.

"Boys, the old man's orders are for us to sneak round on three sides of
Greaves's store, keepi