ations she had never voiced till now.

A month of this went by, and then Runnion returned. He came on an
up-going steamer which panted in for a rest from its thousand-mile
climb, and for breath to continue its fight against the never-tiring
sweep of waters. The manner of his coming was bold, for he stood fairly
upon the ship's deck, staring at the growing picture of the town, as he
had watched it recede a month before, and his smile was evil now, as it
had been then. With him was a stranger. When the boat was at rest
Runnion sauntered down the gang-plank and up to the Lieutenant, who
stood above the landing-place, and who noted that the scar, close up
against his hat-band, was scarce healed. He accosted the officer with
an insolent assurance.

"Well, I'm back again, you see, and I'm back to stay."

"Very well, Runnion; did you bring an outfit with you?" The young man
addressed him civilly, although he felt that the fellow's presence was
a menace and would lead to trouble.

"Yes, and I'm pretty fat besides." He shook a well-laden gold-sack at
the officer. "I reckon I can rustle thirteen dollars a month most
anywhere, if I'm left alone."

"What do you want in this place, anyhow?" demanded Burrell, curiously.

"None of your damned business," the man answered, grinning.

"Be sure it isn't," retorted the Lieutenant, "because it would please
me right down to the ground if it were. I'd like to get you."

"I'm glad we understand each other," Runnion said, and turned to
oversee the unloading of his freight, falling into conversation with
the stranger, who had been surveying the town without leaving the boat.
Evidently this man had a voice in Runnion's affairs, for he not only
gave him instructions, but bossed the crew who handled his merchandise,
and Meade Burrell concluded that he must be some incoming tenderfoot
who had grub-staked the desperado to prospect in the hills back of
Flambeau. As the two came up past him he saw that he was mistaken--this
man was no more of a tenderfoot than Runnion; on the contrary, he had
the bearing of one to whom new countries are old, who had trod the edge
of things all his life. There was a hint of the meat-eating animal
about him; his nose was keen and hawk-like, his walk and movements
those of the predatory beast, and as he passed by, Burrell observed
that his eyes were of a peculiar cruelty that went well with his thin
lips. He was older by far than Runnion, but, while the latter was