mination of his reckless
courage, and the eminence of his double crime had made him respected
among spendthrifts, gamblers, and gentlemen whose performances had
never risen above a stage-coach robbery or a single assassination. Even
criticism of his faded luxuries had been delicately withheld.

He was leaning over his open trunk--which the camp popularly supposed
to contain State bonds and securities of fabulous amount--and had taken
some letters from it, when a figure darkened the doorway. He looked up,
laying his papers carelessly aside. WITHIN Wynyard's Bar property was
sacred.

It was the late fugitive. Although some hours had already elapsed since
his arrival in camp, and he had presumably refreshed himself inwardly,
his outward appearance was still disheveled and dusty. Brier and
milkweed clung to his frayed blouse and trousers. What could be seen of
the skin of his face and hands under its stains and begriming was of
a dull yellow. His light eyes had all the brightness without the
restlessness of the mongrel race. They leisurely took in the whole
cabin, the still open trunk before the major, and then rested
deliberately on the major himself.

"Well," said Major Overstone abruptly, "what brought you here?"

"Same as brought you, I reckon," responded the man almost as abruptly.

The major knew something of the half-breed temper, and neither the
retort nor its tone affected him.

"You didn't come here just because you deserted," said the major coolly.
"You've been up to something else."

"I have," said the man with equal coolness.

"I thought so. Now, you understand you can't try anything of that kind
HERE. If you do, up you go on the first tree. That's Rule 1."

"I see you ain't pertickler about waiting for the sheriff here, you
fellers."

The major glanced at him quickly. He seemed to be quite unconscious of
any irony in his remark, and continued grimly, "And what's Rule 2?"

"I reckon you needn't trouble yourself beyond No. 1," returned the major
with dry significance. Nevertheless, he opened a rude cupboard in the
corner and brought out a rich silver-mounted cut-glass drinking-flask,
which he handed to the stranger.

"I say," said the half-breed, admiringly, "yours?"

"Certainly."

"Certainly NOW, but BEFORE, eh?"

Rule No. 2 may have indicated that references to the past held no
dishonor. The major, although accustomed to these pleasantries, laughed
a little harshly.

"Mine always," he said