lettin' water catch on your side an' it's running into my
ear."

That is the last I heard for a long time. I must have slept. I remember
that the baby stirred and I spoke to him. It seemed to me that
something struck against the guy-rope that held our tarpaulin taut, but
I wasn't sure. I was in that dozy state, half asleep, when nothing is
quite clear. It seemed as though I had been listening to the tramp of
feet for hours and that a whole army must be filing past, when I was
brought suddenly into keen consciousness by a loud voice demanding,
"Hello! Whose outfit is this?" "This is the 7 Up,--Louderer's," the
boss called back; "what's wanted?" "Is that you, Mat? This is Ward's
posse. We been after Meeks and Murdock all night. It's so durned dark
we can't see, but we got to keep going; their horses are about played.
We changed at Hadley's, but we ain't had a bite to eat and we got to
search your camp." "Sure thing," the boss answered, "roll off and take
a look. Hi, there, you Herm, get out of there and fix these fellers
something to eat."

We were surrounded. I could hear the clanking of spurs and the sound of
the wet, tired horses shaking themselves and rattling the saddles on
every side. "Who's in the wickiup?" I heard the sheriff ask. "Some
women and kids,--Mrs. Louderer and a friend."

In an incredibly short time Herman had a fire coaxed into a blaze and
Mat Watson and the sheriff went from bed to bed with a lantern. They
searched the mess-wagon, even, although Herman had been sleeping there.
The sheriff unceremoniously flung out the wood and kindling the cook
had stored there. He threw back the flap of our tent and flashed the
lantern about. He could see plainly enough that there were but the four
of us, but I wondered how they saw outside where the rain made it
worse, the lantern was so dirty. "Yes," I heard the sheriff say, "we've
been pushing them hard. They're headed north, evidently intend to hit
the railroad but they'll never make it. Every ford on the river is
guarded except right along here, and there's five parties ranging on
the other side. My party's split,--a bunch has gone on to the bridge.
If they find anything they're to fire a volley. Same with us. I knew
they couldn't cross the river nowhere but at the bridge or here."

The men had gathered about the fire and were gulping hot coffee and
cold beef and bread. The rain ran off their slickers in little
rivulets. I was sorry the fire was not better,