r cast lightly away,
according to circumstances, it seemed as if the effort made at this time
would be successful.

The latest reports that seemed reliable were to the effect that, after
slaying the Indians, Jake and his men had made off in the direction of
his old stronghold at the head of Traitor's Trap. Hence the invasion by
Crux and his band.

"You'll be glad to hear--or sorry, I'm not sure which--" said the scout,
"that Buck Tom has paid his last debt."

"What! defunct?" exclaimed Crux.

"Ay. Whatever may have bin his true character an' deeds, he's gone to
his account at last."

"Are ye sure, Hunky?"

"If ye don't believe me, go in there an' you'll see what's left of him.
The corp ain't cold yet."

The rugged cow-boy entered at once, to convince himself by ocular
demonstration.

"Well," said he, on coming out of the cave, "I wish it had been the
Flint instead. He'll give us some trouble, you bet, afore we bring him
to lie as flat as Buck Tom. Poor Buck! They say he wasn't a bad chap
in his way, an' I never heard of his bein' cruel, like his comrades.
His main fault was castin' in his lot wi' the Flint. They say that Jake
has bin carousin' around, throwin' the town-folk everywhere into fits."

That night the avengers in search of Jake the Flint slept in and around
the outlaws' cave, while the chief of the outlaws lay in the sleep of
death in a shed outside. During the night the scout went out to see
that the body was undisturbed, and was startled to observe a creature of
some sort moving near it. Ben was troubled by no superstitious fears,
so he approached with the stealthy, cat-like tread which he had learned
to perfection in his frontier life. Soon he was near enough to
perceive, through the bushes, that the form was that of Shank Leather,
silent and motionless, seated by the side of Buck Tom, with his face
buried in his hands upon his knees. A deep sob broke from him as he
sat, and again he was silent and motionless. The scout withdrew as
silently as he had approached, leaving the poor youth to watch and mourn
over the friend who had shared his hopes and fears, sins and sorrows, so
long--long at least in experience, if not in numbered years.

Next morning at daybreak they laid the outlaw in his last resting-place,
and then the avengers prepared to set off in pursuit of his comrades.

"You'll join us, I fancy," said Crux to Charlie Brooke.

"No; I remain with my sick friend Leather. But