gh in the shadow to recognize Bland's companion, but he believed it
was Alloway.

"Dog-tired we are and starved," said Bland, heavily. "Who's here with
you?"

"That's Euchre on the porch. Duane is inside at the window with Jen,"
replied Mrs. Bland.

"Duane!" he exclaimed. Then he whispered low--something Duane could not
catch.

"Why, I asked him to come," said the chief's wife. She spoke easily and
naturally and made no change in tone. "Jen has been ailing. She gets
thinner and whiter every day. Duane came here one day with Euchre, saw
Jen, and went loony over her pretty face, same as all you men. So I let
him come."

Bland cursed low and deep under his breath. The other man made a violent
action of some kind and apparently was quieted by a restraining hand.

"Kate, you let Duane make love to Jennie?" queried Bland, incredulously.

"Yes, I did," replied the wife, stubbornly. "Why not? Jen's in love with
him. If he takes her away and marries her she can be a decent woman."

Bland kept silent a moment, then his laugh pealed out loud and harsh.

"Chess, did you get that? Well, by God! what do you think of my wife?"

"She's lyin' or she's crazy," replied Alloway, and his voice carried an
unpleasant ring.

Mrs. Bland promptly and indignantly told her husband's lieutenant to
keep his mouth shut.

"Ho, ho, ho!" rolled out Bland's laugh.

Then he led the way to the porch, his spurs clinking, the weapons he was
carrying rattling, and he flopped down on a bench.

"How are you, boss?" asked Euchre.

"Hello, old man. I'm well, but all in."

Alloway slowly walked on to the porch and leaned against the rail.
He answered Euchre's greeting with a nod. Then he stood there a dark,
silent figure.

Mrs. Bland's full voice in eager questioning had a tendency to ease
the situation. Bland replied briefly to her, reporting a remarkably
successful trip.

Duane thought it time to show himself. He had a feeling that Bland and
Alloway would let him go for the moment. They were plainly non-plussed,
and Alloway seemed sullen, brooding. "Jennie," whispered Duane, "that
was clever of Mrs. Bland. We'll keep up the deception. Any day now be
ready!"

She pressed close to him, and a barely audible "Hurry!" came breathing
into his ear.

"Good night, Jennie," he said, aloud. "Hope you feel better to-morrow."

Then he stepped out into the moonlight and spoke. Bland returned the
greeting, and, though he was not amiable, he did not