as the Flint did,
desarves the worst that can be done to him."

"I didn't say nowt about what _he_ desarves," returned the scout; "I was
speakin' about what _you_ would do if you'd got the killin' of him."

"Well, well, mates," said Dick Darvall, a little impatiently, "seems to
me that we're wastin' our wind, for the miserable wretch, bein' defunct,
is beyond the malice o' red man or white. I therefore vote that we stop
palaverin', 'bout ship, clap on all sail an' lay our course for home."

This suggestion met with general approval, and the curious mixture of
men and races, which had thus for a brief period been banded together
under the influence of a united purpose, prepared to break up.

"I suppose you an' Darvall will make tracks for Traitor's Trap," said
Crux to Hunky Ben.

"That's my trail to be," answered the scout. "What say you, Black
Polly? Are ye game for such a spin to-night?"

The mare arched her glossy neck, put back both ears, and gave other
indications that she would have fully appreciated the remarks of her
master if she had only understood them.

"Ah! Bluefire and I don't talk in that style," said Crux, with a laugh.
"I give him his orders an' he knows that he's got to obey. He and I
will make a bee-line for David's Store an' have a drink. Who'll keep me
company?"

Several of the more reckless among the men intimated their willingness
to join the toper. The rest said they had other business on hand than
to go carousin' around.

"Why, Crux," said one who had been a very lively member of the party
during the ride out, "d'ye know, boy, that it's writ in the book o' Fate
that you an' I an' all of us, have just got so many beats o' the pulse
allowed us--no more an' no less--an' we're free to run the beats out
fast or slow, just as we like? There's nothin' like drink for makin'
'em go fast!"

"I don't believe that, Robin Stout," returned Crux; "an' even if I did
believe it I'd go on just the same, for I prefer a short life and a
merry one to a long life an' a wishy-washy miserable one."

"Hear! hear!" exclaimed several of the topers.

"Don't ye think, Crux," interposed Darvall, "that a long life an' a
happy one might be better than either?"

"Hear! _hear_!" remarked Hunky Ben, with a quiet laugh.

"Well, boys," said one fine bright-looking young fellow, patting the
neck of his pony, "whether my life is to be long or short, merry,
wishy-washy or happy, I shall be off cow-punching for