the lock of his revolver, and then, with the step of a man ten years
younger, leaped into the road. He had scarcely done so when he was
seized, and by sheer force dragged into a blacksmith's shop at the
roadside. He turned his savage face and drawn weapon upon his assailant,
but was surprised to meet the anxious eyes of the bar-keeper of the
Mansion House.

"Don't be a d----d fool," said the man quickly. "Thar's fifty agin' you
down thar. But why in h-ll didn't you wipe out old Nixon when you had
such a good chance?"

"Wipe out old Nixon?" repeated Ruth.

"Yes; just now, when you had him covered."

"What!"

The bar-keeper turned quickly upon Ruth, stared at him, and then
suddenly burst into a fit of laughter. "Well, I've knowed you two were
twins, but damn me if I ever thought I'd be sold like this!" And he
again burst into a roar of laughter.

"What do you mean?" demanded Ruth savagely.

"What do I mean?" returned the barkeeper. "Why, I mean this. I mean that
your brother Rand, as you call him, he'z bin--for a young feller, and
a pious feller--doin' about the tallest kind o' fightin' to-day that's
been done at the Ferry. He laid out that ar Kanaka Joe and two of his
chums. He was pitched into on your quarrel, and he took it up for you
like a little man. I managed to drag him off, up yer in the hazel-bush
for safety, and out you pops, and I thought you was him. He can't be
far away. Halloo! There they're comin'; and thar's the doctor, trying to
keep them back!"

A crowd of angry, excited faces, filled the road suddenly; but before
them Dr. Duchesne, mounted, and with a pistol in his hand, opposed their
further progress.

"Back in the bush!" whispered the barkeeper. "Now's your time!"

But Ruth stirred not. "Go you back," he said in a low voice, "find Rand,
and take him away. I will fill his place here." He drew his revolver,
and stepped into the road.

A shout, a report, and the spatter of red dust from a bullet near his
feet, told him he was recognized. He stirred not; but another shout, and
a cry, "There they are--BOTH of 'em!" made him turn.

His brother Rand, with a smile on his lip and fire in his eye, stood by
his side. Neither spoke. Then Rand, quietly, as of old, slipped his hand
into his brother's strong palm. Two or three bullets sang by them;
a splinter flew from the blacksmith's shed: but the brothers, hard
gripping each other's hands, and looking into each other's faces with a
quiet joy, s