for more in the dark.

"All there is? All gone?"

"Yes, and to-morrow, Johnny?"

"To-morrow, Carrie?" called out Forty-nine, who was now almost drunk:
"We've had a good supper, let to-morrow take care of itself. Eh! Let
to-morrow take care of itself! That's my motto--hic--divide the troubles
of the year up into three hundred and sixty-five parts, and take the
pieces one at a time. Live one day at a time. That's my philosophy." And
the poor old man, Forty-nine, held his hat high in the air, and began
to hiccough and hold his neck unsteadily.

The girl saw this with alarm. As if by accident she placed herself
between the men and their guns. Meantime, the two men were trying in
vain to get at the pistols of Forty-nine. They would almost succeed, and
then, just as they were about to get hold of them, the drunken man would
roll over to the other side or change position. All the time Carrie kept
wishing so devoutly that Logan would come.

"Take a drink," said one of the men to the girl, reaching out his cup,
after glancing at his companion. But the girl only shook her head, and
stepped further back. "Thought you said she was civilized?" "She, she is
civilized; but isn't quite civilized enough to get drunk yet,"
hiccoughed Forty-nine, as he battered his tin-cup on the table, and
again foiled the hand just reached for his pistol. The boy saw this, and
stole back through the dark behind his sister. To remove the cap and
touch his tongue to the tubes of the guns was the work only of a second,
and again he was back by the side of the men. Eagerly all the time the
girl kept looking over her shoulders into the dark, deep woods, for
Logan. The thunder rolled, and it began to grow very dark. She went up
to Forty-nine, on pretense of helping him to more wine, and whispered
sharply in his ear.

The old man only stared at her in helpless wonder. His head rolled from
one side to the other like that of an idiot. His wits were utterly under
water.

And now, as the darkness thickened and the men's actions could hardly be
observed, one of them pushed the drunken man over, clutched his pistols,
and the two sprang up together.

"I've got 'em, Gar," cried Emens, and the two started back for their
guns. The girl stood in the way, and Dosson threw his massive body upon
her and bore her to the earth, while the other, awkwardly holding the
two pistols in one hand, groped in the dark for their guns.

The storm began to beat terribly. The m