mps--no money--no drink--no grub wuth havin'.
All on promises!"

Not improbably this young and reckless member of the gang had struck
the note of discord. Wilson seemed most detached from any sentiment
prevailing there. Some strong thoughts were revolving in his brain.

"Burt, you ain't insinuatin' thet I made promises?" inquired Anson,
ominously.

"No, boss, I ain't. You allus said we might hit it rich. But them
promises was made to you. An' it 'd be jest like thet greaser to go back
on his word now we got the gurl."

"Son, it happens we got the wrong one. Our long-haired pard hyar--Mister
Riggs--him with the big gun--he waltzes up with this sassy kid instead
of the woman Beasley wanted."

Burt snorted his disgust while Shady Jones, roundly swearing, pelted
the smoldering camp-fire with stones. Then they all lapsed into surly
silence. The object of their growing scorn, Riggs, sat a little
way apart, facing none of them, but maintaining as bold a front as
apparently he could muster.

Presently a horse shot up his ears, the first indication of scent or
sound imperceptible to the men. But with this cue they all, except
Wilson, sat up attentively. Soon the crack of iron-shod hoofs on stone
broke the silence. Riggs nervously rose to his feet. And the others,
still excepting Wilson, one by one followed suit. In another moment a
rangy bay horse trotted out of the cedars, up to the camp, and his rider
jumped off nimbly for so heavy a man.

"Howdy, Beasley?" was Anson's greeting.

"Hello, Snake, old man!" replied Beasley, as his bold, snapping black
eyes swept the group. He was dusty and hot, and wet with sweat, yet
evidently too excited to feel discomfort. "I seen your smoke signal
first off an' jumped my hoss quick. But I rode north of Pine before I
headed 'round this way. Did you corral the girl or did Riggs? Say!--you
look queer!... What's wrong here? You haven't signaled me for nothin'?"

Snake Anson beckoned to Bo.

"Come out of the shade. Let him look you over."

The girl walked out from under the spreading cedar that had hidden her
from sight.

Beasley stared aghast--his jaw dropped.

"Thet's the kid sister of the woman I wanted!" he ejaculated.

"So we've jest been told."

Astonishment still held Beasley.

"Told?" he echoed. Suddenly his big body leaped with a start. "Who got
her? Who fetched her?"

"Why, Mister Gunman Riggs hyar," replied Anson, with a subtle scorn.

"Riggs, you got the wrong g