in the art of transforming culinary
commonplaces into viands of toothsome delight. Elsa became
speechlessly busy. Despite her wishes in the matter, Beth could hear
the men talking beyond.

"So them convicts has hiked over this way already," said the voice of
Gettysburg distinctly. "We heard from A. C. about the prison break,
but he wasn't on to which ones they was."

"One is Matt Barger," Van informed them. "He's the only one I know."

"Matt Barger! Not _your_ Matt Barger?" demanded Gettysburg sharply.

Van nodded. "Mine when I had him."

Gettysburg arose excitedly.

"He ain't come hunting fer you as quick as this?" he inquired uneasily.
"That ain't what's fetched him over to the desert?"

"Haven't asked him," answered Van. "He promised to look me up if ever
he got out alive."

"Look you up!" Gettysburg was obviously over-wrought by the mere
intelligence that Barger was at liberty. "You know what he'll do! You
know him, boy! You know he'll keep his word. You can't go foolin'
around alone. You've got to be----"

"Pass the beans," Van interrupted. He added more quietly: "Sit down,
Gett, and shut the front door of your face."

Napoleon was eating, to "keep Van company." He pushed away his plate.

"Just our luck if these here derelicts was to foul us, skipper and
crew," he observed ruefully. "Just our luck."

Gettysburg sat down, adding: "Why can't you wait, Van, wait till the
whole kit and boodle of us can move to the bran'-new claim?"

Van finished half a cup of coffee.

"I told you I should continue on without delay. The horses will
probably come to-night for all of you to follow me to-morrow."

"Then why don't you wait and go with us?" repeated Gettysburg. "We'll
git there by noon, and you ain't got nuthin' to ride."

The horseman answered: "Suvy's the prettiest gaited thing you ever
saw--when he gaits."

"Holy toads!" said the older man apprehensively, "you ain't
sure-a-goin' to tackle the outlaw today?"

"I've always felt we'd come to it soon or late," was Van's reply. "And
I've got to have a horse this afternoon. We can't kill each other but
once."

"Supposen he stoves in your pilot-house," said Napoleon. "What shall
we do about the claim, and all this cargo, and everything?"

"The claim? Work it, man, work it," Van responded. "What's a mining
claim for but to furnish good hard work for a couple of old ring-tailed
galoots who've shirked it all their lives?"

"Work it,