ns
what they should have thought of without being told. "The thing to
do," he added, "is to go down to Laramie's cabin and see what we can
see--and find out what we can find out."

It was precisely what Bradley had feared would happen, but there was no
escape from Doubleday's logic and no help for what others as well as
Bradley feared might follow.

CHAPTER XVIII

HAWK QUARRELS WITH LARAMIE

On the morning the raiders entered the Falling Wall, Laramie had
started with Henry Sawdy for the Reservation to appraise some allotted
Indian lands. Laramie rode home that night; Sawdy, promising to stop
at the ranch on his way down in the morning, stayed overnight at the
Fort with Colonel Pearson. Laramie got home late. He was asleep next
morning when a door was pushed open and a man walked unceremoniously in
on him. To what instinct some mountain men owe their composure when
disturbed in their sleep by a friend, as contrasted with the instant
defense they offer in like circumstances to an enemy, it would be
difficult to say--certainly there is a difference.

Laramie half opened his eyes to realize that Abe Hawk had come into his
room and seated himself on the one chair. The sleepy man was not
inclined to wake up. "You're early, Abe," was his only greeting. Hawk
made no answer.

After a further effort the drowsy man roused himself to the attention
that seemed demanded in the case: "Going somewhere?" he mumbled
perfunctorily.

"Yes." Hawk's hard tone might have surprised his host for a moment;
but if it did, drowsiness overpowered his senses once more and it was
some time before he realized that his visitor was sitting silent at his
side and that he himself ought to say something. In protest he shifted
his comfortable position in bed: "Get your breakfast ready, Abe," he
suggested, hospitably, but with his heavy eyes closed.

"I've had breakfast."

"Where you bound for today?"

"On a long trip."

"Which way?"

"Home."

"What do you mean, 'home'?"

"I mean hell, Larrie--the home long waiting for me."

Laramie's eyes batted slowly. Not a half a dozen times in all their
long acquaintance had Hawk shortened Laramie's name in speaking to him;
and then only when he spoke as he rarely did from a depth always hidden
from the men among whom his wasted life had been spent. Roused by
something in the utterance of his guest, Laramie looked up.

If the sight was a shock, the mountain man gave no outward s