long delayed. A
new gold strike yielding ore worth anywhere from one to twenty-five
dollars a pound was startling enough to make a stir even in the one and
only Cripple Creek, and it seemed nothing short of a miracle that we
had not already been traced and our location identified.

It was Barrett's gift to take the long look ahead. At his suggestion,
Gifford, who was something of a rough-and-ready draftsman, sketched a
plan for the necessary shaft-house and out-buildings, fitting the
structures to our limited space. When the fight to retain possession
should begin we meant to strike fast and hard; Barrett had already gone
the length of bargaining, through a friend in town, for building
material and machinery, which were to be rushed out to us in a hurry at
the firing of the first gun in what we all knew would be a battle for
existence.

During this Sunday morning talk I was little more than an abstracted
listener. I could think of nothing but the raw hazard of the previous
night and of the frightful moral abyss into which it had precipitated
me. In addition there were ominous forebodings for the future. So
long as Kellow remained in Cripple Creek, danger would lurk for me in
every shadow. Since the calamity which was threatening me would also
involve my partners, at least to the extent of handicapping them by the
loss of a third of our fighting force, it seemed no less than a duty to
warn them. But I doubt if I should have had the courage if Barrett had
not opened the way.

"You're not saying much, Jimmie. Did the trip to town last night knock
you out?" he asked.

It was my opportunity, and I mustered sufficient resolution to seize it.

"No; it didn't knock me out, but it showed me where I've been making a
mistake. I never ought to have gone into this thing with you two
fellows; but now that I am in, I ought to get out."

"What's that!" Gifford exploded; but Barrett merely caught my eye and
said, very gently, "On your own account, or on ours, Jimmie?"

"On yours. There is no need of going into the particulars; it's a long
story and a pretty dismal one; but when I tell you that last night I
was on the point of killing a man in cold blood--that it's altogether
probable that I shall yet have to kill him--you can see what I'm
letting you in for if I stay with you."

Gifford leaned back against the shack wall and laughed. "Oh, if
_that's_ all," he said. But again it was Barrett who took the soberer
vie