yu'--fwhat sort av a man we are goin' up against this
night."

Unconsciously he drew himself up, with an air of simple, rugged dignity
that well became his grim visage and powerful frame. In that hour of
impending danger the brave, true, kindly heart of the man stood
revealed--a personality which endeared him to Yorke and Redmond beyond
any ties of friendship they had known.

Slowly he repeated, "we are none av us cowards here, but--remimber Larry
Blake, an' that pore hobo shtiff back in th' shed there. An' remimber
thim dogs this mornin'. We du not want tu undherrate um. We du not want
tu cop ut like did Wilde, whin he wint tu arrest Charcoal; or Colebrook,
whin he tackled Almighty Voice. Maybe he'll just come a-yawnin' tu th'
dhure, wid th' dhrawlin' English spache av um, sayin' 'Well, bhoys, an'
fwhat's doin'?' An' yet again--may be he's all nerves afther th' bad
break he made in front av us this mornin'--expectin' us--eyah!--waithin',
watchin' belike, wid his gun in his fisht. Luk at th' way he acted
afther his gun play--leery as hell. . . ."

"Yes!" said Yorke thoughtfully, "egad! there was something darned queer
in the way he acted, all right. Guess we'd better take carbines along,
eh, Burke? . . . in case we get let in for a man hunt. For all we know,
he may have beat it already. Another thing--he may start in bucking us
about not having a warrant--just to gain time?"

Slavin met the other's suggestion with a grim nod of acquiescence.
"Shure! we'll take thim," he said, "but"--his jaw set ruthlessly--"if I
wanst get my grub-hooks on um . . . why! 'tis all up!--carbines, or no
carbines--warrant or no warrant. Section thirty av th' Code covers th'
warrant bizness--in a case like this, anyways. Come on, thin, bhoys,
saddle up! An' Lanky!--yu give me a hand wid th' team! we must be
getthin'!"

Presently all was in readiness, and the small, well-armed party left the
detachment under the light of a brilliant three-quarter moon. Slavin led
in the police buckboard, with the doctor seated beside him, and Lanky
Jones crouched behind them. Yorke and Redmond rode in the rear, with
their carbines slung at the saddle-horn. It was a hazardous mission they
were bound on, as they all fully realized now, knowing the terribly
ruthless character of the man they sought to apprehend.

Descending the grade which led to the bend of the river they swung due
east at a smart pace, following the winding Lower Trail. T