the chair an'
figger, whichever you want. Me--I'm a-goin' to set right here an' see
that yer figgerin' don't 'mount to nothin'--see?" The evil eyes of Black
Moran leered, and looking straight into them, Connie deliberately raised
his arms above his head and yawned.

"Guess I'll just crawl into my blankets and sleep," he said. "I won't
bother to try and figure a way out tonight--there'll be plenty of time
in the morning."

The boy spread his blankets and was soon fast asleep on the floor, and
Black Moran, watching him from his chair, knew that it was no feigned
sleep. "Well, of all the doggone nerve I ever seen, that beats it a
mile! Is he fool enough to think I ain't a-goin' to bump him off? That
ain't his reputashion on the Yukon--bein' a fool! It ain't noways
natural he should take it that easy. Is he workin' with a pardner, that
he expects'll git here 'fore mornin', or what? Mebbe that Injun comin'
here after _hooch_ a while back was a plant." The more the man thought,
the more uneasy he became. He got up and placed the two rifles upon the
table close beside him, and returned to his chair where he sat,
straining his ears to catch the faintest night sounds. He started
violently at the report of a frost-riven tree, and the persistent
rubbing of a branch against the edge of the roof set his nerves
a-jangle. And so it was that while the captive slept, the captor worried
and fretted the long night through.

Long before daylight, Black Moran awoke Squigg and made him hit the
trail. "If they's another policeman along the back trail, he'll run on
to Squigg, an' I'll have time fer a git-away," he thought, but he kept
the thought to himself.

When the man was gone, Black Moran turned to Connie who was again seated
in his chair against the wall. "Want anything to eat?" he asked.

"Why, sure, I want my breakfast. Kind of a habit I've got--eating
breakfast."

"Say!" exploded the man, "what ails you anyway? D'you think I'm
bluffin'? Don't you know that you ain't only got a few hours to
live--mebbe only a few minutes?"

"So I heard you say;" answered the boy, dryly. "But, how about
breakfast?"

"Cook it, confound you! There it is. If you figger to pot me while _I'm_
gittin' it, you lose. I'm a-goin' to set right here with this gun in my
hand, an' the first move you make that don't look right--out goes yer
light."

Connie prepared breakfast, while the other eyed him closely. And, as he
worked, he kept up his air of bra