the ranch hands detailed to guard them, Lauman and his man
gave themselves up to the joy of a good meal. Their own cooking, they
said, got mighty tame especially when they hadn't much to cook and dared
not have a fire.

They had come upon the outlaws by mere accident, and it is hard telling
which was the most surprised. But Lauman was, perhaps, the quickest man
with a gun in Valley County, else he would not have been serving his
fourth term as sheriff. He got the drop and kept it while his deputy
did the rest. It had been a hard chase, he said, and a long one if you
counted time instead of miles. But he had them now, harmless as rattlers
with their fangs fresh drawn. He wanted to get them to Glasgow before
people got to hear of their capture; he thought they wouldn't be any too
safe if the boys knew he had them.

If he had known that the Lazy Eight roundup had just pulled in to the
home ranch that afternoon, and that Dick Farney, one of the Stevens
men, had slipped out to the corral and saddled his swiftest horse, it
is quite possible that Lauman would not have lingered so long over his
supper, or drank his third cup of coffee--with real cream in it--with so
great a relish. And if he had known that the Circle Bar boys were camped
just three miles away within hailing distance of the Lazy Eight trail,
he would doubtless have postponed his after-supper smoke.

He was sitting, revolver in hand, watching the Wagners give a practical
demonstration of the extent of their appetites, when Thurston limped in
from the porch, his eyes darker than usual. "There are a lot of riders
coming, Mr. Lauman," he announced quietly. "It sounds like a whole
roundup. I thought you ought to know."

The prisoners went white, and put down knife and fork. If they had never
feared before, plainly they were afraid then.

Lauman's face did not in the least change. "Put the hand-cuffs on,
Waller," he said. "If you've got a room that ain't easy to get at from
the outside, Mrs. Stevens, I guess I'll have to ask yuh for the use of
it."

Mrs. Stevens had lived long in Valley County, and had learned how to
meet emergencies. "Put 'em right down cellar," she invited briskly.
"There's just the trap-door into it, and the windows ain't big enough
for a cat to go through. Mona, get a candle for Mr. Lauman." She turned
to hurry the girl, and found Mona at her elbow with a light.

"That's the kind uh woman I like to have around," Lauman chuckled. "Come
on,