a man!"

Morgan laughed, almost triumphantly. "I'll do my dyin' like a man, all
right--don't be afraid of that. You want to hear what I've got to tell
you?"

"I've got to listen. Shoot!"

"There's a gang of outlaws operatin' in the Lamo country. Luke Deveny is
the chief. It's generally known that Deveny's the boss, but he keeps his
tracks pretty well covered, an' Sheriff Gage ain't been able to get
anything on him. Likely Gage is scared of him, anyway.

"Anyway, Gage don't do nothin'. Deveny's a bad man with a gun; there
ain't his equal in the Territory. He's got a fellow that runs with
him--Strom Rogers--who's almost as good as he is with a gun. They're holy
terrors; they've got the cattlemen for two hundred miles around eatin'
out of their hands. They're roarin', rippin' devils!

"There ain't no man knows how big their gang is--seems like half the
people in the Lamo country must belong to it. There's spies all around;
there ain't a thing done that the outlaws don't seem to know of it. They
drive stock off right in front of the eyes of the owners; they rob the
banks in the country; they drink an' kill an' riot without anyone
interferin'.

"There ain't anyone knows where their hang-out is--no one seems to know
anything about them, except that they're on hand when there's any
devilment to be done.

"I've got to talk fast, for I ain't got long. I've never had any trouble
with Deveny or Rogers, or any of the rest of them, because I've always
tended to my own business. I've seen the thing gettin' worse an' worse,
though; an' I ought to have got out of there when I had a chance. Lately
there ain't been no chance. They watch me like a hawk. I can't trust my
men. The Rancho Seco is a mighty big place, an' I've got thirty men
workin' for me. But I can't trust a damned one of them.

"About a year ago I found some gold in the Cisco Mountains near the
ranch. It was nugget gold--only a pocket. I packed it home, lettin'
nobody see me doin' it; an' I got it all hid in the house, except the
last batch, before anybody knowed anything about it. Then, comin' home
with the last of it, the damned bottom had to bust out of the bag right
near the corral gate, where Meeder Lawson, my foreman, was standin'
watchin' me.

"It turned out that he'd been watchin' me for a long time. I never liked
the cuss, but he's a good cowman, an' I had to hold onto him. When he saw
the gold droppin' out an' hittin' the ground like big hailstones, he