alk." The pilgrim stood leaning against one of the
wooden supporting posts, and as a cowboy thrust the lantern into his
face he noted the eyes never faltered.

"Come along with us!" commanded the puncher, gruffly, as another
stepped up and slipped the noose of a lariat-rope over his head.

"So I am to be lynched, am I?" asked the pilgrim in a matter-of-fact
tone, as with a cowboy on either side he was hurried across the
platform and onto a horse.

"This ain't no time to talk," growled another. "We'll give you a
chanct to empty yer chest 'fore we string you up."

In the moonlight the prisoner's face showed very pale, but the cow-men
saw that his lips were firmly set, and the hands that caught up the
bridle reins did not falter. As the cavalcade started out upon the
trail the Texan turned back, and riding swiftly to the hotel, found Bat
waiting.

"You go in to Number 11 and tell the girl you're ready to start."

"You'm mean de pilgrim's girl?"

The Texan frowned and swore under his breath: "She ain't the pilgrim's
girl, yet--by a damn sight! You take her an' the pack horse an' hit
down the river an' cut up through old man Lee's horse ranch onto the
bench. Then hit for Snake Creek crossin' an' wait for me."

The half-breed nodded, and the Texan's frown deepened as he leaned
closer. "An' you see that you get her through safe an' sound or I'll
cut off them ears of yours an' stake you out in a rattlesnake den to
think it over." The man grinned and the frown faded from the Texan's
face. "You got to do me a good turn, Bat. Remember them four bits in
Las Vegas!"

"A'm tak' de girl to Snake Creek crossin' a'right; you'm don' need for
be 'fraid for dat."

The cowpuncher whirled and spurred his horse to overtake the cowboys
who, with the prisoner in charge, were already well out upon the trail.

In front of the hotel the half-breed watched the flying horseman until
he disappeared from sight.

"A'm wonder if dat girl be safe wit' him, lak' she is wit' me--_bien_.
A'm t'ink mebbe-so dat damn good t'ing ol' Bat goin' long. If she damn
fine girl mebbe-so Tex, he goin' mar' her. Dat be good t'ing. But, by
Gar! if he don' mar' her, he gon' leave her 'lone. Me--A'm lak' dat
Tex fine, lak' me own brudder. He got de good heart. But w'en he
drink de hooch, den A'm got for look after him. He don' care wan damn
'bout nuttin'. Dat four bit in Las Vegas, dats a'right. A'm fink
'bout dat, too. But, by Gar, it tak