h Hale's face in the dream-mist of
her brain, and Uncle Billy's, and the bold, black eyes of Bad Rufe
Tolliver--all fused, blurred, indistinguishable. Then suddenly Rufe's
words struck that brain, word by word, like the clanging terror of a
frightened bell.

"I'm goin' to kill me a policeman." And with the last word, it seemed,
she sprang upright in bed, clutching the coverlid convulsively. Daylight
was showing gray through her window. She heard a swift step up the
steps, across the porch, the rattle of the door-chain, her father's
quick call, then the rumble of two men's voices, and she knew as well
what had happened as though she had heard every word they uttered. Rufe
had killed him a policeman--perhaps John Hale--and with terror clutching
her heart she sprang to the floor, and as she dropped the old purple
gown over her shoulders, she heard the scurry of feet across the back
porch--feet that ran swiftly but cautiously, and left the sound of them
at the edge of the woods. She heard the back door close softly, the
creaking of the bed as her father lay down again, and then a sudden
splashing in the creek. Kneeling at the window, she saw strange horsemen
pushing toward the gate where one threw himself from his saddle, strode
swiftly toward the steps, and her lips unconsciously made soft, little,
inarticulate cries of joy--for the stern, gray face under the hat of
the man was the face of John Hale. After him pushed other men--fully
armed--whom he motioned to either side of the cabin to the rear. By his
side was Bob Berkley, and behind him was a red-headed Falin whom she
well remembered. Within twenty feet, she was looking into that gray
face, when the set lips of it opened in a loud command: "Hello!" She
heard her father's bed creak again, again the rattle of the door-chain,
and then old Judd stepped on the porch with a revolver in each hand.

"Hello!" he answered sternly.

"Judd," said Hale sharply--and June had never heard that tone from him
before--"a man with a black moustache killed one of our men over in the
Gap yesterday and we've tracked him over here. There's his horse--and we
saw him go into that door. We want him."

"Do you know who the feller is?" asked old Judd calmly.

"No," said Hale quickly. And then, with equal calm:

"Hit was my brother," and the old man's mouth closed like a vise. Had
the last word been a stone striking his ear, Hale could hardly have been
more stunned. Again he called and almost