n, that ain't."

"And it never will be," averred Belle, indignantly.

"Come up to the hotel with me right now," returned Sawdy coldly, "and
I'll buy you a bottle of beer. Bet you ten dollars you da'ssent do
it--who the devil--" Sawdy almost choked as the two heard a knock at
the door--"who the devil is that?" he repeated. The door opened and
Jim Laramie walked in.

He sent his hat sailing toward a side table, stepped forward and,
catching at a chair on the way, greeted Belle and her guest and sat
down before a plate cover opposite Sawdy. He pointed to what remained
of Sawdy's supper and, with knife and fork, started in: "There's enough
for me right here, Belle," he said.

Sawdy raised his chin: "Not this time, Jim. Not on your life. That's
the way you always eat my supper."

"You eat too much, Henry--it will kill you some time," observed
Laramie, losing no time in his initiative. He ignored Sawdy's stare
and the big man, disgusted, sat dumb: "Don't surrender, Sawdy,"
counseled Laramie. "Keep going, and excuse me if I seem to begin."

Sawdy paused, his knife and fork firmly in hand, but pointing
helplessly into the air: "This is the first square meal I've had for
two days," he said, as one whose hopes have been dashed.

"First I've had for ten days," returned Laramie.

"What are they doing up there, Jim?" asked Sawdy peremptorily.

"Killing their horses."

"They won't find him," Sawdy predicted in words inaudible six feet away.

"I hope not."

"How's he holding out?"

"Hard hit, Henry."

"Will he make it?"

"You can't kill a cat."

"Well"--Sawdy resumed his supper, "it's your game, Jim, not mine; but
I'd think twice before I'd get that range bunch after me on any man's
account."

Laramie's eyes flashed, but he spoke quietly: "I couldn't see Abe
killed like a rattlesnake."

"What are you down for?"

"I've got to have a couple of needles, a little catgut and some gauze."

"Where are you going to get them?"

"Going to steal them over at Doc. Carpy's."

"Nervy."

"You can do it for me, Henry."

"Me?"

"I'll give you the key to his cabinet."

"Where'd you get that?"

"Met him on my way in. He was going up to Pettigrew's to look after
the wounded. The window in the end of the wing opens into the
operating room, where the supplies are."

"I'd look fine climbing into a window at two hundred and twenty pounds."

"It's on the ground floor," returned Laramie, unmoved.

"What will