ing sharp than be a crook with Fyles
on my trail," he added as an afterthought.

"An' he's after the sharps most now," suggested Holy Dick, with a
contemplative eye on Charlie.

A laugh came from the poker table. Holy Dick glanced round as a harsh
voice commented----

"Feelin' glad, ain't you, Holy?" it said.

Holy Dick spat.

"I'd feel gladder, Pete Clancy, if I could put him wise to some o' the
whisky sharps," said the old man vindictively. "Maybe it would sheer
him off Rocky Springs."

The man's eyes were snapping for all the mildness of his words.

O'Brien replied before Pete could summon his angry retort.

"There's a good many sharps in the game in this town, and I don't
guess it would be a gay day for the feller that put any of 'em away.
Not that I think anybody could, by reason of the feller that runs the
gang. Look at that train 'hold-up' at White Point. Was there ever such
a bright play? I tell you, whoever runs that gang is a wise guy. He's
ten points flyer than Master Stanley Fyles. Say, Fyles was waiting for
that cargo at Amberley, and here are you boys, drinking some of it
right here, and with him around the town, too. Say, the boss of that
gang is a bright boy."

He sighed as though regretful that so much cleverness should have
passed him by in favor of another, and again his gaze wandered in
Charlie's direction.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not a--sharp," said Billy Unguin, preparing to
depart. "Come on, Allan," he went on to the postmaster. "It's past
midnight and----"

O'Brien chuckled.

"There's the old woman waiting."

Billy nodded good-naturedly, and the two passed out with a brief "good
night."

When they had gone Holy Dick leaned across the bar confidentially.

"Who'd _you_ guess is the boss of the gang?" he inquired.

O'Brien shook his head.

"Can't say," he said, with a knowing wink. "All I know is I can lay
hands on all the liquor I need right here in this town, and I'm
dealing direct with the boss. When the money's up right, the liquor's
laid any place you select. He don't give himself away to any customer.
He's the smartest guy this side of hell. He's right here all the time,
jest one of the boys, and we don't know who he is."

"No one's ever seen him--except his gang," murmured Holy, with a
smile. "Guess they wouldn't give him away neither."

Stormy Longton and the Kid arose from their table and demanded a final
drink. O'Brien served them and they took their departure.

"I