ld justify murder. The weapon in his hand
swept wildly back and forth. Presently it would focus down to a deadly
concentration in which all motion would cease.

The torrent of vilification died on the man's lips. He stared past the
constable with bulging eyes. From the rocks three figures had come.
Two of them carried rifles. All three of them he recognized. His
astonishment paralyzed the scurrilous tongue. What was McRae's girl
doing at the camp of the officer?

It was characteristic of him that he suspected the worst of her.
Either Tom Morse or this red-coat had beaten him to his prey. Jealousy
and outraged vanity flared up in him so that discretion vanished.

The barrel of his revolver came down and began to spit flame.

Beresford gave orders. "Back to the rocks." He retreated, backward,
firing as he moved.

The companions of West surged forward. Shots, shouts, the shifting
blur of moving figures, filled the night. Under cover of the darkness
the defenders reached again the big rocks.

The constable counted noses. "Everybody all right?" he asked. Then,
abruptly, he snapped out: "Who was responsible for that crazy business
of you coming out into the open?"

"Me," said the girl. "I wanted that West to know you weren't alone."

"Didn't you know better than to let her do it?" the officer demanded
of Morse.

"He couldn't help it. He tried to keep me back. What right has he to
interfere with me?" she wanted to know, stiffening.

"You'll do as I say now," the constable said crisply. "Get back of
that rock there, Miss McRae, and stay there. Don't move from cover
unless I tell you to."

Her dark, stormy eyes challenged his, but she moved sullenly to obey.
Rebel though she was, the code of the frontier claimed and held her
respect. She had learned of life that there were times when her will
must be subordinated for the general good.

CHAPTER IX

TOM MAKES A COLLECTION

The attackers drew back and gathered together for consultation. West's
anger had stirred their own smoldering resentment at the police, had
dominated them, and had brought them on a journey of vengeance. But
they had not come out with any intention of storming a defended
fortress. The enthusiasm of the small mob ebbed.

"I reckon we done bit off more'n we can chaw," Harvey Gosse murmured,
rubbing his bristly chin. "I ain't what you might call noways anxious
to have them fellows spill lead into me."

"Ten of us here. One man, an Injun