has shown himself one," said Breeze.

"Ye-e-s," said the stranger meditatively, "ye-e-s." He stopped, opened
the door softly, and peeped out, and then closed it again softly. "It's
sing'lar, Mr. Breeze," he went on in a sudden yet embarrassed burst
of confidence, "that Jim thar--a man thet can shoot straight, and hez
frequent; a man thet knows every skin game goin'--that THET man Jim,"
very slowly, "hezn't really--got--any friends--'cept me--and his wife."

"Indeed?" said Mr. Breeze dryly.

"Sure! Why, you yourself didn't cotton to him--I could see THET."

Mr. Breeze felt himself redden slightly, and looked curiously at the
man. This vulgar parasite, whom he had set down as a worshiper of sham
heroes, undoubtedly did not look like an associate of Bodine's, and had
a certain seriousness that demanded respect. As he looked closer into
his wide, round face, seamed with small-pox, he fancied he saw even in
its fatuous imbecility something of that haunting devotion he had seen
on the refined features of the wife. He said more gently,--

"But one friend like you would seem to be enough."

"I ain't what I uster be, Mr. Breeze," said the man meditatively,
"and mebbe ye don't know who I am. I'm Abe Shuckster, of Shuckster's
Ranch--one of the biggest in Petalumy. I was a rich man until a year
ago, when Jim got inter trouble. What with mortgages and interest,
payin' up Jim's friends and buying off some ez was set agin him, thar
ain't much left, and when I've settled that bill for the schooner lying
off the Heads there I reckon I'm about played out. But I've allus a
shanty at Petalumy, and mebbe when things is froze over and Jim gets
back--you'll come and see him--for you ain't seen him at his best."

"I suppose his wife and children go with him?" said Breeze.

"No! He's agin it, and wants them to come later. But that's all right,
for you see she kin go back to their own house at the Mission, now that
the Vigilants are givin' up shadderin' it. So long, Mr. Breeze! We're
startin' afore daylight. Sorry you didn't see Jim in condition."

He grasped Breeze's hand warmly and slipped out of the door softly. For
an instant Mr. Breeze felt inclined to follow him into the room and make
a kinder adieu to the pair, but the reflection that he might embarrass
the wife, who, it would seem, had purposely avoided accompanying her
husband when he entered, withheld him. And for the last few minutes he
had been doubtful if he had any right t