s glided into the night.
The lighted window in the house was like a staring eye that searched
after them, but Satan, with the wolf running before, vanished quickly
among the shadows of the hills. They were glad. They were loosed in
the void of the mountain-desert with no destiny save the will of the
master. They seemed like one being rather than three. The wolf was the
eyes, the horse the strong body to flee or pursue, and the man was the
brain which directed, and the power which struck.

He had formulated no plan of action to free Buck and kill Silent. All
he knew was that he must reach the long riders at once, and he would
learn their whereabouts from Morris. He rode more slowly as he
approached the hotel of the sheriff. Lights burned at the dining-room
windows. Probably the host still sat at table with his guests, but it
was strange that they should linger over their meal so late. He had
hoped that he would be able to come upon Morris by surprise. Now he
must take him in the midst of many men. With Black Bart slinking at
his heels he walked softly across the porch and tiptoed through the
front room.

The door to the dining-room was wide. Around the table sat a dozen
men, with the sheriff at their head. The latter, somewhat red of face,
as if from the effort of a long speech, was talking low and earnestly,
sometimes brandishing his clenched fist with such violence that it
made his flabby cheeks quiver.

"We'll get to the house right after dawn," he was saying, "because
that's the time when most men are so thick-headed with sleep that--"

"Not Whistling Dan Barry," said one of the men, shaking his head. "He
won't be thick-headed. Remember, I seen him work in Elkhead, when he
slipped through the hands of a roomful of us."

A growl of agreement went around the table, and Black Bart in
sympathy, echoed the noise softly.

"What's that?" called the sheriff, raising his head sharply.

Dan, with a quick gesture, made Black Bart slink a pace back.

"Nothin'," replied one of the men. "This business is gettin' on your
nerves, sheriff. I don't blame you. It's gettin' on mine."

"I'm trustin' to you boys to stand back of me all through," said the
sheriff with a sort of whine, "but I'm thinkin' that we won't have no
trouble. When we see him we won't stop for no questions to be asked,
but turn loose with our six-guns an' shoot him down like a dog. He's
not human an' he don't deserve--Oh, God!"

He started up from his cha