an once--the cold glitter of hostility.

Startled, she took him by the shoulders and shook him.

"Why, what on earth has come over you, Deal?"

He grinned mirthlessly, got up, took a hitch in his cartridge belt, and
drew a full breath.

"The fightin' ain't over yet," he said. "There's a bunch of guys
comin' toward the Double A. Dale's gang, most likely--after the money
I took from Maison."

She was on her feet now, and looking out into the basin. Two or three
miles away, enveloped in huge dust cloud, were a number of riders.
They were coming fast, and headed directly for the Double A ranchhouse.

The girl clung to Sanderson's arm in sudden terror until he gently
released himself, and taking her by the shoulders forced her through a
door and into the sitting-room.

"Hide that money in a safe place---where the devil himself couldn't
find it. Don't give it up, no matter what happens."

He walked to a window and looked out. Behind him he could hear Mary
running here and there; and at last when the riders were within half a
mile of the house, she came and stood behind Sanderson, panting,
resting her hands on his shoulders to peer over them at the coming
riders.

Sanderson turned and smiled at her. "We'll go out on the porch, now,
an' wait for them."

"Deal," she whispered excitedly; "why don't you go away? Get on
Streak--he'll outrun any horse in the county! Go! Get Williams and
the other boys. Deal!" She shook him frenziedly. "It isn't the money
they are after--it's you! They'll kill you, Deal! And there are so
many of them! Run--run!"

He grinned, patting her shoulder as he led her out upon the porch and
forced her into a chair.

When the men had come near enough for him to distinguish their faces,
and he saw that Dale was leading them, he walked to a slender porch
column and leaned against it, turning to smile at Mary.

"Maison decided he'd have to talk, looks like," he said. "Some men
just can't help it."

Rigid in her chair, the girl watched the riders swoop toward the
ranchhouse; Sanderson, lounging against the porch column, smiled
saturninely.

The riders headed directly toward the porch. Sanderson counted them as
they came to a halt within thirty feet of the edge of the porch. There
were twenty of them.

Dale, his face flushed, his eyes alight with triumph, dismounted and
stepped forward, halting at the edge of the porch and sweeping his hat
from his head with exaggerated court