was not fear, but a high tension of
excitement. As we strolled past the Bella Union with what appearance of
nonchalance we could muster, Danny Randall nodded at us from the
doorway. By this we knew that Catlin was to be found at his own place.

[Illustration: "WE MARCHED OUR PRISONER IN DOUBLE-QUICK TIME ... TO THE
AGREED RENDEZVOUS"]

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE VIGILANTES (_continued_)

Catlin dwelt in a detached room back of the Empire, together with one of
the other professional gamblers. We lounged around the corner of the
Empire building. The door of the cabin was shut. Outside we hung back,
hesitating and a little uncertain. None of us was by nature or training
a man of violence, and we experienced the reluctance of men about to
plunge into cold water. Nobody was more than pardonably afraid, and of
course we had every intention of seeing the affair through. Then
suddenly in the actual face of the thing itself my excitement drained
from me like a tide receding. My nerves steadied, my trembling stilled.
Never had I felt more cool in my life. Drawing my revolver, I pushed
open the door and entered the building.

Catlin was in the act of washing his face, and him I instantly covered
with my weapon. His companion was still abed. On my entrance the latter
had instinctively raised on his elbow, but immediately dropped back as
he saw the figures of my companions darkening the door.

"Well, gentlemen?" demanded Catlin.

"You must come with us," I replied.

He showed no concern, but wiped carefully his face and hands.

"I will be ready in a minute," said he, throwing aside the towel, and
rolling down his shirt sleeves. He advanced toward a bench on which his
coat had been flung. "I'll be with you as soon as I can put on my coat."

I glanced toward that garment and saw the muzzle of a revolver peeping
out from beneath it.

"I'll hand your coat to you," said I quickly. Catlin turned deadly pale,
but spoke with his usual composure.

"What am I wanted for?" he inquired.

"For being a road agent, a thief, and an accessory to robberies and
murders," I replied.

"I am innocent of all--as innocent as you are."

"There is no possibility of a mistake."

"What will you do with me?"

"Your sentence is death," I told him.

For a single instant his dark face lit up.

"You think so?" he flashed.

"Hurry!" urged one of my companions.

With one man on either side and another behind, revolvers drawn, we
marched o