med, scanning closely the
wretched creature who had so unexpectedly appeared. "Where did you
drop from? and what has happened?"

"Give me something to eat," Curly gasped, "an' then I'll tell ye. I'm
almost dead."

Laying aside his rifle, the other opened a bag nearby and produced
several hard-tack biscuits. Like a ravenous beast Curly seized and
devoured them.

"More, more," he begged.

"I'm short myself," Dan informed him, as he again thrust his hand into
the bag. "There, take them," and he tossed over two more biscuits.

When Curly had eaten the last crumb, he searched into a hole in his
jacket and brought forth an old blackened pipe.

"Got any tobacco, Dan? Mine's all gone."

Without a word the latter passed him part of a plug.

"A match," was the next request.

"What d'ye think I am?" was the curt reply; "a store? Get a light fer
yourself," and Dan motioned to the fire. "I can't spare any matches."

Curly did as he was ordered, lighted his pipe with a small burning
stick, and then stretched himself out before the fire. He was a sorry
looking spectacle, and Dan watched him curiously.

"What's the matter, Curly?" he asked. "Where have you been?"

"Where d'ye think I've been?" was the surly reply. "Where do I look as
if I'd been? To a Garden Party?"

"Well, no, judging by your appearance. Haven't been mauled by a
grizzly, have you?"

"No, worse than a grizzly. I've been in the hands of devils, that's
where I've been. And his Satanic majesty was there, too."

"H'm, it's rather early, isn't it, Curly?" and Dan grinned.

"Early! What d'ye mean?"

"Nothing, except that ye didn't expect to meet the devil an' his bunch
until ye cashed in, did ye?"

"Oh, I see. But we'll be pardners, then, Dan, never fear. But if the
devil an' his gang are any worse than the ones at Glen West, then the
outlook isn't very bright for either of us."

"So you've been in Jim Weston's hands, eh?" Dan queried, while his eyes
closed to a narrow squint.

"Should say I have, an' just barely escaped. It was terrible!"
Curly's hands trembled, and into his eyes came a look of fear as he
glanced apprehensively around. "Ye don't suppose they've followed me,
do you?"

"Don't be a fool," Dan chided. "D'ye want me to tell ye something?"

"Sure. Go ahead."

"Jim Weston and his Indian gang were only bluffing."

"Bluffing!"

"That's what I said. Look here, Curly, they did the same thing to me,
and scared me