goin' to do just what I
tell you, or the boys will have a hangin' bee down in the ravine. Speak
up, an' tell me what you propose to do."

Jenks wet his dry lips with his tongue, clinging to the sides of the door
with both hands.

"I--I am the Lord's servant," he managed to articulate, "and have taken
no part in this unholy war."

"You're a cheerful liar, but don't try snivelling on me. You are too big
a coward to go out yourself, but you're hand in glove with Farrell. Oh, I
know you, sneaking saint; I've had my eyes on you a long while. Now it's
do as I say, or hang; that's all, Jenks, an' I'm cussed if I care very
much which you choose."

"What--what is it you wish of me?" his uncertain gaze wandering over the
three faces, but coming back to Fagin.

"You are to marry this officer here to a young lady."

"What--what young lady?"

"Mortimer's daughter--Claire is the name, isn't it, Grant? Yes, Claire;
you know her, I reckon."

I could hear the unfortunate man breathe in the silence, but Fagin's eyes
threatened.

"Is--is she here?" he faltered helplessly. "Does she desire the--the
ceremony?"

"That doesn't happen to be any of your business," broke in Fagin bluntly.
"This is my affair, an' the fewer questions you ask the better. If we
want some fun, what the hell have you got to do with it, you snivelling
spoil-sport! I haven't asked either of them about it. I just decided it
was time they got married. Stand up, man, and let go that door," he drew
a derringer from his belt and flung it onto the table. "There's my
authority--that, an' fifty hell-hounds outside wondering why I don't loot
the house, an' be done. Do you want to be turned over to them? If you
don't, then speak up. Will you tie them, or not?"

Jenk's eyes wandered toward Jones, who stared blankly back at him, yellow
fangs showing beneath his beard.

"Why--of course--yes," he faltered weakly. "I--suppose I must."

"Don't seem much chance to get out, does there, parson? Well, I reckon it
won't hurt your conscience particularly. Bill! Where's Bill?"

"You sent him to guard the front door," explained Jones.

"That's right, I did. You'll do just as well. Go up stairs, an' bring the
girl down. She's with the old man, an' Culberson is guarding the door.
Better not say what she's wanted for. Just tell her Captain Grant wishes
to speak to her a moment."

Jones straightened up, and pushed past the preacher, the stairs creaking
under his weight as he w