on the
road to Paradise. He turned impatiently toward the store.

At that instant Thompson ran out, broke through the ring of men, and
handed a roll of "yellowbacks" to Huntington, who hurriedly peeled off
several of the bills, and thrust them at arm's length toward the
wavering cow-punchers.

"Haig talked about a thousand dollars!" he cried. "There's fifteen
hundred. Do you want it?"

For a moment it was heads or tails. Even Larkin eyed the money
hungrily. Then his teeth clicked together, and he turned upon his
partners, whose faces showed plainly the answer that was upon their
lips.

"An' what'll you say to _him_?" he demanded.

"Eighteen hundred!" shouted Huntington.

"That's good enough for me!" cried Raley. "Say it, Jud!"

There was a distant thunder of hoofs as Haig's horse took the short
bridge over the Brightwater. The crowd backed still farther away from
Huntington, who was again fingering his roll of bills.

"Two thousand!" he roared, shaking the handful of "yellowbacks" at the
wavering Smith.

Raley leaned from his saddle, and grabbed Smith's arm.

"Quick, Jud!" he pleaded hotly. "Don't be a fool!"

"All right! We'll take it!" answered Smith.

"No!" said Larkin firmly, pulling his horse around between Huntington
and the two partners.

"Yes!" the two cried out together.

Huntington stepped forward, and thrust both handfuls of bills almost
into Larkin's face.

"Name your price then!" he bellowed.

Larkin looked at the money,--smelt it,--as he said afterwards, grimly
confessing his weakness at the sight of more than he could save in
years of riding the range and branding mavericks. If there had been
ten seconds more--

Haig galloped into the crowd, which gave him plenty of room, and
reined up his pony just in front of the golden outlaw. For some
instants he saw only the horse; and his eyes kindled. Then he faced
the cowboys and Huntington.

They were fixed in almost the very attitudes in which he had come upon
them. Huntington's outstretched hands had indeed fallen to his side,
but they still clutched the crumpled bills. Raley's blood-stained face
was purple with anger and chagrin, while Smith's wore a sullen,
hangdog look. As for Larkin, he met Haig's questioning scrutiny with a
look of mingled triumph and guilt.

"Well, why don't you go on?" asked Haig, with a smile.

There was no response. The silence was again so complete that the
music of the Brightwater was heard across the mea