f the
wolf answered dolefully from the house.

"Good Lord," groaned Buck. "Now we'll have that black devil on our
hands again."

"No, we won't," chuckled Sam, "the wolf won't leave Dan. Come on
along, old hoss."

Nevertheless it required hard labour to urge and drag the stallion
to the stable. At the end of that time they had the saddle off and a
manger full of fodder before him. They went back to the house with the
impression of having done a day's work.

"Which it shows the fool nature of a hoss," moralized Sam. "That
stallion would be willin' to lay right down and die for the man
that's jest rode him up to the front door of death, but he wishes
everlastingly that he had the strength to kick the daylight out of you
an' me that's been tryin' to take care of him. You jest write this
down inside your brain, Buck: a hoss is like a woman. They jest
nacherally ain't no reason in 'em!"

They found Dan in a heavy sleep, his breath coming irregularly. Mrs.
Daniels stated that it was the fever which she had feared and she
offered to sit up with the sick man through the rest of that night.
Buck lifted her from the chair and took her place beside the bed.

"No one but me is goin' to take care of Whistlin' Dan," he stated.

So the vigil began, with Buck watching Dan, and Black Bart alert,
suspicious, ready at the first wrong move to leap at the throat of
Buck.

CHAPTER XXVII

NOBODY LAUGHS

That night the power which had sent Dan into Elkhead, Jim Silent,
stood his turn at watch in the narrow canyon below the old Salton
place. In the house above him sat Terry Jordan, Rhinehart, and Hal
Purvis playing poker, while Bill Kilduff drew a drowsy series of airs
from his mouth-organ. His music was getting on the nerves of the other
three, particularly Jordan and Rhinehart, for Purvis was winning
steadily.

"Let up!" broke out Jordan at last, pounding on the table with his
fist. "Your damn tunes are gettin' my goat. Nobody can think while
you're hittin' it up like that. This ain't no prayer meetin', Bill."

For answer Kilduff removed the mouth-organ to take a deep breath,
blinked his small eyes, and began again in a still higher key.

"Go slow, Terry," advised Rhinehart in a soft tone. "Kilduff ain't
feelin' none too well tonight."

"What's the matter with him?" growled the scar-faced man, none too
anxious to start an open quarrel with the formidable Kilduff.

Rhinehart jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"T