, under him, straight between his legs like a greased pig,
and, spilling him all over the trail, sped on out of sight. Herky raised
himself, and then he sat there, red as a lobster, and bawled curses
while he made his huge revolver spurt flame on flame.

I could not see the other men, but their uproarious mirth could have
been heard half a mile away. When it dawned upon Herky, he was so
furious that he spat at them like an angry cat and clicked his empty
revolver.

Then Greaser lurched out of the door. I got a glimpse of him, and, for a
wonder, was actually sorry for him. He looked as if he had been through
a threshing-machine.

"Haw! haw! Ho! ho!" roared the merry lumbermen.

Then they trooped into the cabin. Buell headed the line, and Herky,
sullenly reloading his revolver, came last. At first they groped around
in the dim light, stumbling over everything. Part of the time they were
in the light space near the door, and the rest I could not see them. I
scarcely dared to breathe. I felt a creepy chill, and my eyesight grew
dim.

"Who does this stuff belong to, anyhow?" Buell was saying. "An' what was
thet bear doin' in here?"

"He was roped up--hyar's the hitch," answered Bud.

"An' hyar's a rifle--Winchester--ain't been used much. Buell, it's thet
kid's!"

I heard rapid footsteps and smothered exclamations.

"Take it from me, you're right!" ejaculated Buell. "We jest missed him.
Herky, them tracks out there? Somebody's with this boy--who?"

"It's Jim Williams," put in Dick Leslie, cool-voiced and threatening.

The little stillness that followed his words was broken by Buell.

"Naw! 'Twasn't Williams. You can't bluff this bunch, Leslie. By your own
words Williams is lookin' for us, an' if he's lookin' for anybody I know
he's lookin' for 'em. See!"

"Buell, the kid's fell in with old Bent, the b'ar hunter," said Bill.
"Thet accounts fer the cub. Bent's allus got cubs, an' kittens, an'
sich. An' I'll tell you, he ain't no better friend of ourn than Jim
Williams."

"I'd about as soon tackle Williams as Bent," put in Bud.

Buell shook his fist. "What luck the kid has! But I'll get him, take it
from me! Now, what's best to do?"

"Buell, the game's going against you," said Dick Leslie. "The
penitentiary is where you'll finish. You'd better let me loose. Old
Bent will find Jim Williams, and then you fellows will be up against it.
There's going to be somebody killed. The best thing for you to do is to
let