wiftly, even passionately, in his brain,
and it was evident that his thoughts were more than unpleasant to
himself. As the moments passed his strides became more aggressive, and
his movements were accompanied by gesticulations of a threatening
nature with his clenched fists.

At last he paused in his walk, and dropped again into his chair. Here
he sat for a long while. Then, of a sudden, he lifted his head and
glanced swiftly about his bare room. Finally he sprang to his feet and
crushed his slouch hat on his head, and, crossing over to the oil-lamp
on the table, blew it out. Then he passed out into the night, slamming
and locking the door behind him.

The night was dark, and the moon would not rise for at least another
hour. The air was still laden with the heat of the long summer's day,
and it hummed with the music of stirring insect life. He strode along
the trail past the store. He glanced at the lighted windows longingly,
for he had an appointment for a game in there that night. But he
passed on.

As he came to the camp dumps he paused for a moment to take his
bearings. Then he continued his way with long, decided strides, and in
a few minutes the dim outline of Scipio's house loomed up before him.
He came close up, and walked slowly round it. At one window he paused,
listening. There was not a sound to be heard outside. At the window of
the bedroom he listened a long time. No, he could not even hear the
children breathing.

At last he reached the door which Sunny had locked. He cautiously
tried the handle, and the sound brought a whimper from the yellow pup
within. He cursed the animal softly under his breath and waited,
hoping the wretched creature would settle down again. He heard it
snuff at the foot of the door, and then the soft patter of its feet
died away, and he knew that the poor thing had satisfied itself that
all was well.

He smiled, and sat down at the foot of the door. And, with his knees
drawn up into his arms, he prepared for his long vigil. It was the
posting of the night sentry over Scipio's twins.

CHAPTER VIII

WILD BILL THINKS HARD--AND HEARS NEWS

Wild Bill stretched himself drowsily. It was noon. He knew that by the
position of the patch of sunlight on the floor, which he gazed at with
blinking eyes. Presently he reached out his long arms and clasped his
hands behind his head. He lay there on his stretcher bed, still very
sleepy, but with wakefulness gaining ascendancy rap