. The posse thought him
unusually queer just then. His eyes seemed dulled with a peculiar
faint, bluish film. His manner was over-deliberate. There was
something back of it all that they could not fathom. Moreover, the
place was darkened. Some one had hung blankets over the windows. The
deputies--four of them--followed The Spider into the saloon.

"I guess you boys want to eat," said The Spider.

"We sure do."

"All right. I'll have Manuelo get you something." And he called to
the Mexican, telling him to place a table in the private room--The
Spider's own room, back of the bar. While the Mexican prepared
breakfast, the posse accepted their chief's invitation to have a drink,
which they felt they needed. Presently The Spider led the way to his
room. The deputies, somewhat suspicious, hesitated on the threshold as
they peered in. A lamp was burning on the table. There were plates,
knives and forks, a coffee-pot, a platter of bacon . . . Beyond the
lamp stood Young Pete, his back toward the couch and facing them. His
eyes were like the eyes of one who walks in his sleep.

The Spider held up his hand. "You're planted--out there. These
gentlemen say so. So you ain't here!"

Pete's belt and gun lay on the floor. The Spider was in his
shirt-sleeves and apparently unarmed.

The chief deputy sized up the situation in a flash and pulled his gun.
"I guess we got you--this trip, Pete."

"No," said The Spider. "You're wrong. He's planted--out there. What
you staring at, boys? Pete, stand over there. Come right in, boys!
Come on in! I got something to show you."

"Watch the door, Jim," said the chief. "Ed, you keep your eye on The
Spider." The chief deputy stepped to the table and peered across it at
a huddled something on the couch, over which was thrown a shimmering
serape. He stepped round the table and lifted a corner of the serape.
Boca's sightless eyes stared up at him.

"Christ!" he whispered. "It's the girl!" And even as he spoke he knew
what had happened--that he and his men were responsible for this. His
hand shook as he turned toward The Spider.

"She--she ran into it when she-- It's pretty tough, but--"

"Your breakfast is waiting," said The Spider.

"This was accidental," said the deputy, recovering himself, and
glancing from one to another of his men. Then he turned to Pete.
"Pete, you'll have to ride back with us."

"No," said The Spider with a peculiar stubborn shrug o