many men come with me--in forty minutes
there--back."

Rance turned to Ashby and asked him what he thought about it.

"I don't know what to think," was the Wells Fargo Agent's reply. "But it
certainly is curious. This is the second warning--intimation that we
have had that he is somewhere in this vicinity."

"And this Nina Micheltorena--you say she is coming here to-night?"

Ashby nodded assent.

"All the same, Rance," he maintained, "I wouldn't go. Better drop in to
The Palmetto later."

"What? Risk losin' 'im?" exclaimed Sonora, who had been listening
intently to their conversation.

"We'll take the chance, boys, in spite of Ashby's advice," Rance said
decisively. It was with not a little surprise that he heard the shouts
with which his words were approved by all save the Wells Fargo Agent.

Now the miners made a rush for their coats, hats and saddles, while from
all sides came the cries of, "Come on, boys! Careful--there!
Ready--Sheriff!"

Gladly, cheerfully, Nick, too, did what he could to get the men started
by setting up the drinks for all hands, though he remarked as he did so:

"It's goin' to snow, boys; I don't like the sniff in the air."

But even the probability of encountering a storm--which in that altitude
was something decidedly to be reckoned with--did not deter the men from
proceeding to make ready for the road agent's capture. In an incredibly
short space of time they had loaded up and got their horses together,
and from the harmony in their ranks while carrying out orders, it was
evident that not a man there doubted the success of their undertaking.

"We'll git this road agent!" sung out Trinidad, going out through the
door.

"Right you are, pard!" agreed Sonora; but at the door he called back to
the greaser: "Come on, you oily, garlic-eatin', red-peppery,
dog-trottin', sunbaked son of a skunk!"

"Come on, you . . .!" came simultaneously from the Deputy, now untying
the rope which bound the prisoner.

The greaser's teeth were chattering; he begged:

"One dreenk--I freeze . . ."

Turning to Nick the Deputy told him to give the man a drink, adding as
he left the room:

"Watch him--keep your eye on him a moment for me, will you?"

Nick nodded; and then regarding the Mexican with a contemptuous look, he
asked:

"What'll you have?"

The Mexican rose to his feet and began hesitatingly:

"Geeve me--" He paused; and then, starting with the thought that had
come to him, he shot a