d gone on into Dry
Lake. He saw no sign of the girl or the boy or any one else as they
reached the front door and hurried inside.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lamy look hurriedly about and step
into the kitchen. He followed him.

Lamy grabbed part of a loaf of bread and some cold meat on a shelf
above the kitchen table.

"There's usually a cellar under the main room in these square houses,"
he said, hurrying back into the larger room.

Rathburn stepped after him, and Lamy pulled back the rug before the
table and disclosed a trapdoor. He raised the door, held out the food
to Rathburn, and whispered: "You better get down there. Take this grub
an'----"

"What's the matter? Isn't there room for both of us?" Rathburn put the
question in a voice which conveyed surprise.

"I thought it might be better if we--if we didn't both hide in the
same place," whispered Lamy. "Then they'd only get one of us, an'
whichever it was they'd think he was the one they wanted, see?" He
appeared excited.

Rathburn's eyes narrowed. His right hand darted to his gun in a flash,
and the muzzle of the weapon was pressed into Lamy's ribs. "Get down
there!" commanded Rathburn. "Get down."

Lamy hesitated with a wild look in his eyes. The muzzle of Rathburn's
gun pressed harder against his midriff. He dropped lightly into the
cellar. Rathburn pulled the rug against the trapdoor as he followed,
then let down the door, certain that the rug would fall into place.

The pair sat upon some gunny sacks in the little cellar until their
eyes became accustomed to the darkness; they could dimly see each
other by the faint light which came to them through some cracks in the
floor above.

They heard steps at the rear of the house; then the pound of hoofs
from in front. Rathburn saw Lamy staring at him fixedly with a puzzled
look. He frowned at him. Rathburn still held his gun in his hand. Both
had forgotten the food which Lamy had in his lap.

"Say," whispered Lamy. "What was your idea in givin' me back my gun?"

He moved closer to get the reply.

"Shut up!" said Rathburn, cocking an ear toward the trapdoor.

The sound of footsteps now was in the kitchen. They heard horses
snorting and men dismounting at the front door. After a brief space
there were light footsteps in the room above followed by the tramp of
heavy boots.

"Good morning, ma'am," came a deep voice.

"Good morning," was the hesitating reply. Rathburn recognized the
voice o