n' out of gunshot till we find good cover, an'
then crawl closer an' to pick off any of Jorth's gang who shows
himself."

Bill Isbel strode off without a reply to Colmor.

"Well, I don't think so much of that," said Jean, ponderingly. "Jorth
has lots of friends here. Somebody might pick us off."

"I kicked, but the old man shut me up. He's not to be bucked ag'in'
now. Struck me as powerful queer. But no wonder."

"Maybe he knows best. Did he say anythin' about what he an' the rest
of them are goin' to do?"

"Nope. Blue taxed him with that an' got the same as me. I reckon we'd
better try it out, for a while, anyway."

"Looks like he wants us to keep out of the fight," replied Jean,
thoughtfully. "Maybe, though ... Dad's no fool. Colmor, you wait here
till I get out of sight. I'll go round an' come up as close as
advisable behind Greaves's store. You take the right side. An' keep
hid."

With that Jean strode off, going around the barn, straight out the
orchard lane to the open flat, and then climbing a fence to the north
of the village. Presently he reached a line of sheds and corrals, to
which he held until he arrived at the road. This point was about a
quarter of a mile from Greaves's store, and around the bend. Jean
sighted no one. The road, the fields, the yards, the backs of the
cabins all looked deserted. A blight had settled down upon the
peaceful activities of Grass Valley. Crossing the road, Jean began to
circle until he came close to several cabins, around which he made a
wide detour. This took him to the edge of the slope, where brush and
thickets afforded him a safe passage to a line directly back of
Greaves's store. Then he turned toward it. Soon he was again
approaching a cabin of that side, and some of its inmates descried him,
Their actions attested to their alarm. Jean half expected a shot from
this quarter, such were his growing doubts, but he was mistaken. A
man, unknown to Jean, closely watched his guarded movements and then
waved a hand, as if to signify to Jean that he had nothing to fear.
After this act he disappeared. Jean believed that he had been
recognized by some one not antagonistic to the Isbels. Therefore he
passed the cabin and, coming to a thick scrub-oak tree that offered
shelter, he hid there to watch. From this spot he could see the back
of Greaves's store, at a distance probably too far for a rifle bullet
to reach. Before him, as far as the store, and