d out who his accomplices are, I shall
have something more to say to him."

"I'll have him tagged," promised the trainmaster; and a few minutes
later, when the Wire-Silver visitor sauntered up Mesa Avenue in quest of
diversion wherewith to fill the hours of waiting for his train, a small
man, red-haired, and with a mechanic's cap pulled down over his eyes,
kept even step with him from dive to dive.

Judson's report, made to the trainmaster that evening after the
westbound train had left, was short and concise.

"He went up and sat in Sammy's game and didn't come out until it was
time to make a break for his train. I didn't see him talking to anybody
after he left here." This was the wording of the report.

"You are sure of that, are you, John?" questioned McCloskey.

Judson hung his head. "Maybe I ain't as sure as I ought to be. I saw him
go into Sammy's, and saw him come out again, and I know he didn't stay
in the bar-room. I didn't go in where they keep the tiger. Sammy don't
love me any more since I held Bart Rufford up with an S-wrench, and I
was afraid I might disturb the game if I went buttin' in to make sure
that Flemister was there. But I guess there ain't no doubt about it."

Thus Judson, who was still sober, and who meant to be faithful according
to his gifts. He was scarcely blameworthy for not knowing of the
existence of a small back room in the rear of the gambling-den; or for
the further unknowledge of the fact that the man in search of diversion
had passed on into this back room after placing a few bets at the silent
game, appearing no more until he had come out through the gambling-room
on his way to the train. If Judson had dared to press his espial, he
might have been the poorer by the loss of blood, or possibly of his
life; but, living to get away with it, he would have been the richer for
an important bit of information. For one thing, he would have known that
Flemister had not spent the afternoon losing his money across the
faro-table; and for another, he might have made sure, by listening to
the subdued voices beyond the closed door, that the man he was shadowing
was not alone in the back room to which he had retreated.

XI

NEMESIS

On the second day following Flemister's visit to Angels, Lidgerwood was
called again to Red Butte to another conference with the mine-owners. On
his return, early in the afternoon, his special was slowed and stopped
at a point a few miles east of the