th the same deathly pallor he crept over the dead leaves to
Ezram's feet. His hands were perfectly steady as he unlooped the laces,
one after another, and quietly pulled off the right boot. In the boot
leg, just as Ezram had promised, Ben found a scrap of white paper.

He spread it on his knee, and unfolded it with care. The moonlight was
not sufficiently vivid, however, for him to read the penciled scrawl. He
felt in his pocket for a match.

Because his mind was operating clear and sure, his thoughts flashed at
once to his enemies in their cabins along the creek. He did not want
them to know he had found the body. His first instinct was to work in
the dark, to achieve his ends by stealth and cunning! It was strange
what capacity for cunning had come upon him. Oh, he would be
crafty--sharp--sure in every motion.

It was unlikely, however, that the faint glare of a match could carry so
far. To make sure he walked behind the covert, then turned his back to
the canyon through which the creek flowed. The match cracked,
inordinately loud in the silence, and his eyes followed the script.
Ezram had been faithful to the last:

To WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

In case of my death I leave all I die possessed of including my
brother Hiram's claim near Yuga River to my pard and buddy, Ben
Darby.

(Signed) EZRA MELVILLE.

The document was as formal as Ezram could make it, with a carefully
drawn seal, and for all its quaint wording, it was a will to stand in
any court. But Ezram had not been able to hold his dignity for long. He
had added a postscript:

Son, old Hiram made a will, and I guess I can make one too. I just
found out about them devils that jumped our claim. I left you back
there at the river because I didn't want you taking any dam fool
risks till I found out how things lay.

I just got one thing to ask. If them devils get me--get them. My
life ain't worth much but I want you to make them pay for the little
it is worth. Never stop till you've done it.

Ben lighted match after match until he had absorbed every word. Then he
folded the paper and placed it in his pocket; but the action did not in
the least take his eyes from the words. He could still see them, written
in fire. They were branded on his spirit.

He stood wholly motionless for a space of almost a minute, as if
listening. The heat back of his eyes was more intense now. The red coals
were about to burst into f