at now? Reckon I must 'a' been
locoed, or, like 'nuff that ar ole hermutt's done played a trick on
me. S'h'd think he'd have more principle than t' play a trick on a
pore feller what's jest stopped t' rest in his hole for a few hours."

He overturned the bench to peer inquiringly at the place where it had
stood, then, straightening himself as well as he could--which was not
very well--he looked slowly around the cavern. "It stan's to reason,"
he muttered thoughtfully, "that if airy one had come in whilst I was
asleep I'd 'a' woke up, so the hermutt must 'a' done it. What a ghost
kin want of a gun beats me, too! Why in thunderation didn't he take
his ole flint-lock, if he was wantin' a gun so mighty bad, instead of
sneakin' back t' rob a pore feller in his sleep! I wonder if the ole
thing is loaded, anyway. There's a pair of eyes shinin' back yon in
the corner; I ain't afeared of 'em, but I wisht he'd 'a' left my gun.
Who's agoin' t' draw a bead on a pair of eyes in the dark with a ole
flint-lock that you have to build a bonfire around before the
powder'll take fire?"

Clearly, as his drunken muttering told, he had caught the gleam of
Guard's angry eyes, yet, it was evident, as he had said, that he was
not at all afraid. Wild beast or tame, it was all one to him, that I
well knew, for now that he was on his feet, and standing in the shaft
of pale light streaming in at the cavern entrance, I recognized him as
Big Jim.

Big Jim was a cowboy with a more than local fame for reckless daring,
as well as for his unfortunate appetite for strong drink. I had seen
him but once before, but I had been able on that occasion to render
him a slight service. It did not seem to me, however, as I crouched
trembling under the rock, watching his irresponsible movements, that
the memory of that service would aid my cause with him just now, even
if I were daring enough to recall it. People said that Big Jim never
forgave any one who came between him and his whiskey bottle. Recalling
this gossip, as the man staggered toward the corner where the rusty
old musket stood, I decided that it was time to act. The flint-lock,
even if loaded, would probably be as harmless in his incapable hands
as any other iron rod, but under the circumstances it did not look
particularly safe to linger.

As the man's back was turned I sprang suddenly to my feet. "Seek him,
Guard! Take him!" I cried, and Guard literally obeyed. Startled and
sobered by the sound o