d from your father
since he set out?"

"Not yet."

"Well, I'm going to start to-night with a posse for the Cache. If O'Connor
comes back, tell him I'll follow the Roaring Fork."

"You'll not go this time without a gun, Jack," she said with a ghost of a
smile.

"No. I want to make good this trip."

"You did splendidly before. Not one man in a hundred would have done so
well."

"I'm a wonder," he admitted with a grin.

"But you will take care of yourself--not be foolish."

"I don't aim to take up residence in Boot Hill cemetery if I can help
it."

"Boone and his men are dangerous characters. They are playing for high
stakes. They would snuff your life out as quick as they would wink. Don't
forget that."

"You don't want me to lie down before Dunc Boone, do you?"

"No-o. Only don't be reckless. I told father the same."

Her dear concern for him went to Jack's head, but he steadied himself
before he answered. "I've got one real good reason for not being reckless.
I'll tell you what it is some day."

Her shy, alarmed eyes fled his at once. She began an account of how her
father had gathered his posse and where she thought he must have gone.

After dinner Jack went downtown. Melissy did some household tasks and
presently moved out to the cool porch. She was just thinking about going
back in when a barefoot boy ran past and whistled. From the next house a
second youngster emerged.

"That you, Jimmie?"

"Betcherlife. Say, 've you heard about the sheriff?"

"Who? Jack Flatray! Course I have. The Roaring Fork outfit ambushed him,
beat him up, and made him hit the trail for town."

"Aw! That ain't news. He's started back after them again. Left jes' a
little while ago. I saw him go--him 'n' Farnum 'n' Charley Hymer 'n' Hal
Yarnell 'n' Mr. Bellamy."

"Bet they git 'em."

"Bet they don't."

"Aw, course they'll git 'em, Tom."

The other youngster assumed an air of mystery. He swelled his chest and
strutted a step or two nearer. Urbane condescension oozed from him.

"Say, Jimmie. C'n you keep a secret?"

"Sure. Course I can."

"Won't ever snitch?"

"Cross my heart."

"Well, then--I'm Black MacQueen, the captain of the Roaring Fork bad
men."

"You!" Incredulity stared from Jimmie's bulging eyes.

"You betcher. I'm him, here in disguise as a kid."

The magnificent boldness of this claim stole Jimmie's breath for an
instant. He was two years younger than his friend, but he did not quite
know whet