" confided the Scotch boss with
growing confidence. "But she's been going up two or three times now to
get some medicine from Doc Torpy--that's the way of it. There's a nice
girl, sir--in a bunch o' ruffians, I know--though old Duke, she lives
with, he ain't a half-bad man except for too many cards; I used to
work for him--but I call her a nice girl. Do you happen to know her?"

De Spain had long been on guard. "I've spoken with her in a business
way one or twice, Jim. I can't really say I know her."

"Nice girl. But that's a tough bunch in that Gap, sure as you're
alive; yes, sir."

De Spain was well aware the canny boss ought to know. McAlpin had
lived at one time in the Gap, and was himself reputed to have been a
hardy and enduring rider on a night round-up.

"Anything sick, Jim?" asked de Spain, walking on down the barn and
looking at the horses. It was only the second time since he had given
him the job that de Spain had called the barn boss "Jim," and McAlpin
answered with the rising assurance of one who realizes he is "in"
right. "Not so much as a sore hoof in either alley, Mr. de Spain. I
try to take care of them, sir."

"What are we paying you, Jim?"

"Twenty-seven a week, sir; pretty heavy work at that."

"We'll try to make that thirty-two after this week."

McAlpin touched his cap. "Thank you kindly, sir, I'm sure. It costs
like hell to live out here, Mr. de Spain."

"Lefever says you live off him at poker."

"Ha, ha! Ha, ha, sir! John will have his joke. He's always after me to
play poker with him--I don't like to do it. I've got a family to
support--he ain't. But by and far, I don't think John and me is ten
dollars apart, year in and year out. Look at that bay, sir! A month
ago Elpaso said that horse was all in--look at him now. I manage to
keep things up."

"What did you say," asked de Spain indifferently, "had been the matter
with Nan Morgan?" Her name seemed a whole mouthful to speak, so
fearful was he of betraying interest.

"Why, I really didn't say, sir. And I don't know. But from what she
says, and the way she coughs, I'm thinking it was a touch of this
p-new-monia that's going around so much lately, sir."

His listener recalled swiftly the days that had passed since the night
he had seen her wet through in the cold rain at Sleepy Cat. He feared
Jim's diagnosis might be right. And he had already made all
arrangements to meet the occasion now presenting itself. Circumstances
seemed at