Kinnard hain't got no bit in _my_ mouth," growled Dog. "Whar
air these places at, Joe?"

Sanders was now innoculated with the spirit of crusade--not so much as
a reform as a new and impudent adventure--and his lips parted in a
contented grin that showed his uneven teeth.

"A couple on 'em air closed down fer ther time-bein'," he enlightened,
"but ther worms air thar. By ter-morrer Kinnard'll jest about hev
passed on a warnin' an' they'll be watched, but ter-night hit's cl'ar
sleddin'. A man kin bust 'em up single handed an' nuver be suspicioned.
Hit'll tek all three of us tergether ter manage ther third one though,
because _thet_ still b'longs ter little Jake Kinnard an' Jake or his
law-kin Mat Branham'll be on watch--mebby both of 'em."

Bear Cat's eyes brightened at this prospect of immediate action.
"Little" Jake, so dubbed after mountain custom because his father still
lived and bore the same given name, was a nephew of Kinnard Towers, and
despite his diminutive title prided himself on his evil and murderous
repute. He was a "notched-gun" man and high in his uncle's favor.

"Air they runnin' thet kittle in ther same place es they used to a year
back?" demanded Turner, and Joe nodded as he replied. "Ther same
identical spot. Hit's, as a man mout say, right in ther shadder of ther
Quarterhouse hitself."

Bear Cat Stacy was on his feet and his words came with the animation of
a daring plan already formulated.

"Now hearken.... You two boys look atter them idle stills.... I aims
ter manage this t'other one--by myself."

Dog Tate raised a hand in remonstrance, but Turner beat down argument
with a contemptuous laugh. "I'm in haste because I'm a-wearied," he
explained, "an' thet's ther speediest way ter git through an' lay down.
I'll be at yore house afore sun-up, an' I reckon ye kin hide me out
thar fer a few hours while I sleeps, kain't ye?"

"I kin take keer of ye--ef ye gits thar alive," affirmed the first
recruit. "But hit looks severely dubious ter me."

Turner tightened his belt, but as he was leaving he wheeled to direct:
"This worm of your'n an' ther t'other two hes got ter be hangin' in
ther highway by daylight. I aims ter hang Jake Kinnard's right up
erginst ther stockade of ther Quarterhouse."

As he scuttled through the dark timber the moon broke out at intervals,
making of the road a patch-work of shadow and light. Last night he was
hiding out only from the revenue agent and his informers. To-night