ught all th' riders of th'
Holdin' would stand by th' place."

Billy, fully sobered, straightened up and held hard to that clutching
hand. The red light of the sunset flushed his cheeks, but it never set
the glow that was in his eyes.

"Don't you know yet, Tharon," he said quietly, "when I'm a-jokin' with
you? I'd stand by Last's an' you to my last breath. Don't you know
that?"

For a long moment Tharon regarded him gravely.

"Yes, I do," she said, "but somehow I don't like to have you talk
that-a-way, Billy. Don't do it no more."

"All right," promised the rider, "if you say so, Boss. Only don't talk
about firin' me, then. I'm very sensitive."

And he looked away with smiling eyes to where the deep black shadows
fell prone into the Valley from the forbidding face of the great
Wall.

Only the towering peaks were alight with crimson and gold, which
haloed their bulk in majestic mystery.

Night was coming fast across Lost Valley, while the tree-toads out by
the springhouse set up their nightly chorus.

"It's Eden," thought the man, "as sure's th' world, made an' forgot
with all its trimmin's--innocence an' sweetness an' plenty, an' th'
silence of perfect peace, not to overlook th' last unnecessary evil,
th' livin' presence of his majesty, th' devil."

Then the light died wholly and there came the disturbing sound of
boots on the ringing stones. The rest of the riders were coming in to
claim their share of Billy's Eden.

CHAPTER IV

UNBROKEN BREAD

Jameson, Hill and Thomas were as good as their word. During the week
that followed the spectacular denouncement of Courtrey and Service at
Baston's store, they went quietly to every settler in the Valley and
declared themselves. In almost every instance they met with eager
pledges of approval. They knew, every man of them, that this slow
banding together for resistance against Courtrey and his power meant
open war. For years they had suffered indignities and hardship without
protest. While Jim Last lived they had had a sort of leader, an
example, though they had feared to follow in his lead too strongly.

They had copied his methods of guarding possessions, of corraling
every cattle-brute at night, of keeping every horse under bars. Last
had looked Courtrey in the face. The rest dared not.

Now with Last gone, they felt the lack, as if a bastion had been
razed, leaving them in the open. Secrecy in Lost Valley had been
brought to a work of art. They c