"The Boss is planning some devilment or ruther," said the red-faced
scout to the other white man. "It's a sartain sign when he chuckles
to himself that a-way."

"Your diagnosis is correct, Ephraim," replied his pal, giving his
black moustache a delicate twist.

"Better not let Big Gus hear you use such language, Edgar," said Eph,
"because he's kind of tetchy sometimes."

Edgar only laughed. He was an odd sheep to be in such a fold, for he
looked more like a consumptive than an outlaw; his face had a decided
pallor, and he was subject to a hacking cough. It was evident that he
also gave some attention to dress and a real diamond shone in his
shirt front, once white, but now of a dubious grime.

But make no mistake. Next to the Boss he was the most dangerous man in
the pack. He was a man with a certain amount of education, but it did
him no good, and if he got near a piano, he could make it hum with
harmony. His chief accomplishment, however, and one which made him
valuable to his chief, was his ability to use a revolver with rapidity
and precision.

"You fellars better turn in;" it was the voice of Gus Gols; "I'm
liable to give yer somethin' besides conversation in a day or two. I
want yer to look pink and purty if we should happen to meet them swell
tenderfeet. Shet up now." They "shet."

CHAPTER XXIII

A HOLIDAY

"It's going to be a fine day," said Jim. He was standing in front of
the tent on the hill and taking a preliminary look at the sky. It
certainly had the appearance of being just as he said. The sun was
sweeping the shining length of the valley with his fresh and early
beams and there were a few fair, faint clouds drawn across the broad
blue brow of morning.

"There's nothing like the first break of day in the mountains," said
Jeems. "I've seen it a hundred times and I never get tired of it."

"It certainly makes you feel fine and fit, this air after a night's
sleep," said Jo, who stood poised on the edge of the hill, with his
hands resting lightly on his hips. He did look fit as he said, and the
rest of the boys, too, with their sunbrowned faces and sinewy figures,
every pound of which was bone and muscle. It gave one more confidence
in their ability to stand off the outlaws. One look into their keen,
alert eyes showed that they were not to be caught napping, either.

"What's the program for to-day, Skipper?" asked Jeems.

"Juarez and I are going after deer or any other game we can ge