he entered to find Boone, Mansie, and Gandil grouped about the fire,
all ominously silent, all ominously wakeful. They looked up to him and
big Jim nodded his gray head. Otherwise there was no greeting.

From a shadowy corner Jacqueline rose and went toward the door. He
crossed quickly and barred the way.

"What is it, Jack?"

"Get out of the way."

"Not till you tell me what's wrong."

A veritable devil of fury came blazing in her eyes, and her hand
twitched nervously back to her hip where the dark holster hung. She
said in a voice that shook with anger: "Don't try your bluff on me. I
ain't no shorthorn, Pierre le Rouge."

He stepped aside, frowning.

"To-morrow I'll argue the point with you, Jack."

She turned at the door and snapped back: "You? You ain't fast enough
on the draw to argue with me!"

And she was gone. He turned to face the mocking smile of Black Gandil
and a rapid volley of questions.

"Where's Patterson?"

"No more idea than you have."

"And Branch?"

"What's become of Branch? Hasn't he returned?"

"No. And Dick Wilbur?"

"Boys, he's done with this life and I'm glad of it. He's starting on a
new track."

"After a woman?" sneered Bud Mansie.

"Shut up, Bud," broke in Boone, and then slowly to Pierre: "Patterson
is gone for two days now. You ought to know what that means. Branch
ought to have returned from looking for him, and Branch is still out.
Wilbur is gone. Out of seven we're only four left. Who's next?"

He stared gloomily from face to face, and Gandil snarled: "A fellow who
saves a shipwrecked man--"

"Damn you, keep still, Gandil."

"Don't damn me, Pierre le Rouge, but damn the luck you've brought to
Jim Boone."

"Jim, do you chalk all this up against me?"

"I, lad? No, no! But it's queer. Patterson's done for; there's no
doubt of that. Good-natured Garry Patterson. God, boy, how we'll miss
him! And Branch seems to have gone the same way. If neither of them
show up before morning we can cross 'em off the list. Now Wilbur has
gone and Jack has ridden home looking like a small-sized thunder storm,
and now you come with a white face and a blank eye. What hell is
trailin' us, Pierre, what hell is in store for us. You've seen
something, and we want to know what it is."

"A ghost, Jim, that's all. Just a ghost."

Bud Mansie said softly: "There's only one ghost that could make you
look like this. Was it McGurk, Pierre?"

Boone commanded: "No