ny
kind of a signal, I'll do as I threaten. If any man doesn't think so,
let him make the trial."

"Well, I'll be hanged!" muttered Larch Cadmus; "this _is_ a go!"

Judging from the new turn of affairs, it looked as if a single
individual had the "drop" on four others.

It struck Larch Cadmus that this was a good occasion for something in
the nature of a compromise.

"See here, Sterry," he said, assuming an affected jocularity which
deceived no one, "I'll own you've played it on me mighty fine. But you
can't stand there all night with your Winchester p'inted at me, and
bime-by I'll git tired; can't we fix the matter up some way?"

"Fred," said Sterry, with the same coolness shown from the first,
"slip through the door; you know where your gun is; stoop a little,
so I won't have to shift my aim; when that is done we'll talk about
compromise."

Fred Whitney, as quick as his companion to "catch on," did instantly
what was requested. He dodged into the darkened apartment, with which,
of course, he was so familiar that he needed the help of no light to
find his weapon.

Had Larch Cadmus been as subtle as his master, perhaps he might have
prevented this by ordering one of his men to cover Whitney with his
gun, though it is more than probable that Sterry still would have
forced the leading rustler to his own terms.

But there was one among the four with the cunning of a fox; he was
Spark Holly, who had located the inspector when in front of the house.

At the moment Cadmus was brought up all standing, as may be said,
Holly stood so far to one side that he was not in the young man's
field of vision. He, like his two companions, could have slipped off
at any moment without danger to himself, but it would have been at the
cost of their leader's life; nor could they shift their position and
raise a weapon to fire into the room, where there was a prospect
of hitting the daring youth at bay, without precipitating that
catastrophe.

The instant, however, Fred Whitney turned his back on the rustlers,
Holly saw his opportunity. He vanished.

The others, more sluggish than he, held their places, dazed,
wondering, stupefied, and of no more account than so many logs of
wood.

Shrewd enough to do this clever thing, Spark Holly was too cautious to
spoil it by allowing his movement to be observed. Had he darted over
the plain in front of the house, Mont Sterry would have seen the
fleeing figure, understood what it meant, and