job anyhow. It's tur'ble slow work," Curly
followed up, yawning. "Well, here's hoping you land yours, Sam."

This was about two o'clock in the afternoon. The game dragged on for a
while, but nobody took any interest in it. Sam had to get ready for the
work of the night, and the rest were anxious to get out and give him a
chance. So presently Dick threw down his cards.

"I've had enough poker for one session. Me, I'm going to drift out and see
what's moving in town."

"Think I'll snooze for a while," Sam said, stretching sleepily.

The others trooped out and left him alone. From the room rented by Davis
the three watched to see that Sam did not leave without being observed. He
did not appear, and about six o'clock Curly went back to his room.

"Time to grub," he sang out.

"That's right," Sam agreed.

They went to the New Orleans Hash House, and presently Davis and Maloney
also arrived. The party ordered a good dinner and took plenty of time to
eat it. Sam was obviously nervous, but eager to cover his uneasiness under
a show of good spirits.

Curly finished eating just as Sam's second cup of coffee came. Flandrau,
who had purposely chosen a seat in the corner where he was hemmed in by
the chairs of the others, began to feel in his vest pockets.

"Darned if I've got a cigar. Sam, you're young and nimble. Go buy me one
at the counter."

"Sure." Cullison was away on the instant.

Curly's hand came out of his pocket. In it was a paper. Quickly he shook
the contents of the paper into the steaming cup of coffee and stirred the
liquid with a spoon.

Sam brought back the cigar and drank his coffee. Without any unnecessary
delay they returned to his room. Before the party had climbed the stairs
the boy was getting drowsy.

"Dunno what's the matter with me. I'm feeling awful sleepy," he said,
sitting on the bed.

"Why don't you take a snooze? You've got lots of time before the train
goes."

"No, I don't reckon I better."

He rubbed his eyes, yawned, and slumped down. His lids wavered, shut,
jerked open again, and closed slowly.

"Wake me, Curly--time for train." And with that he was sound asleep.

They took off his boots and settled him comfortably. In his pocket they
found a black mask big enough to cover his whole face. The registered
letter could not be found and they decided he must have destroyed it.

The sight of the mask had given Curly an idea. He was of about the same
build as Sam. Why not go in hi