was that he was almost holding his own."

"Hope he gets well," said Long. "Good old geezer! Now, cap, I've worked
hard and you've ridden hard. Better set your guards and let the other
two take a little snooze."

Griffith was not proof against the insidious flattery of this unhesitant
preference. He flushed with embarrassment and pleasure.

"Well, if I'm to be captain, Gurd will take the first guard--till
eleven. Then you come on till two, Mr. Long. I'll stand from then on
till daylight."

In five minutes Mr. Long was enjoying the calm and restful sleep of
fatigued innocence; but his poor captain was doomed to have a bad night
of it, with two Bransfords on his hands--one in the Basin and one in the
bed beside him. His head was dizzy with the vicious circle. Like the
gentlewoman of the nursery rhyme, he was tempted to cry: "Lawk 'a' mercy
on me, this is none of I!"

If he haled his bedmate to justice and the real Bransford got away--that
would be a nice predicament for an ambitious young man! He was sensitive
to ridicule, and he saw here such an opportunity to earn it as knocks
but once at any man's door.

If, on the other hand, while he held Bransford cooped tightly in the
Basin, this thrice-accursed Long should escape him and there should be
no Bransford in the Basin----What nonsense! What utter twaddle!
Bransford was in the Basin. He had found his horse and saddle, his
tracks; no tracks had come out of the Basin. Immediately on the
discovery of the outlaw's horse, Gurd had ridden back posthaste and held
the pass while he, the captain, had gone to the mouth of the southern
canyon and posted his friends. He had watched for tracks of a footman
every step of the way, going and coming; there had been no tracks.
Bransford was in the Basin. He watched the face of the sleeping man.
But, by Heaven, this was Bransford!

Was ever a poor captain in such a predicament? A moment before he had
fully and definitely decided once for all that this man was not
Bransford, could not be Bransford; that it was not possible! His reason
unwaveringly told him one thing, his eyesight the other!... Yet
Bransford, or an unfortunate twin of his, lay now beside him--and, for
further mockery, slept peacefully, serene, untroubled.... He looked upon
the elusive Mr. Long with a species of horror! The face was drawn and
lined. Yet, but forty-eight hours of tension would have left
Bransford's face not otherwise. He had noticed Bransford's hands i