fun," he said, "and I suppose we DID look rather rough with these guns
as we ran on ahead of the mule. But then you know that when you called
to me I really thought you were in for a shindy. All the same, Whiskey
Dick did that 'hands up' to perfection: how he managed it I don't know,
but his knees seemed to knock together as if he was in a real funk."
Demorest had thought so too, but he made no reply. How far that
miserable drunkard was a forced or willing accomplice of the events
of last night was part of a question that had become more and more
repugnant to him as he was leaving the scene of it forever. It had
come upon him, desecrating the dream he had dreamt that last night and
turning its hopeful climax to bitterness. Small wonder that Barker,
walking by his side, had his quick sympathies aroused, and as he saw
that shadow, which they were all familiar with, but had never sought to
penetrate, fall upon his companion's handsome face, even his youthful
spirits yielded to it. They were both relieved when the clatter of
hoofs behind them, as they reached the valley, announced the approach of
Stacy. "I started with the second mule and the last load soon after you
left," he explained, "and have just passed them. I thought it better
to join you and let the other load follow. Nobody will interfere with
THAT."
"Then you are satisfied?" said Demorest, regarding him steadfastly.
"You bet! Look!"
He turned in his saddle and pointed to the crest of the hill they had
just descended. Above the pines circling the lower slope above the bare
ledges of rock and outcrop, a column of thick black smoke was rising
straight as a spire in the windless air.
"That's the old shanty passing away," said Stacy complacently. "I reckon
there won't be much left of it before we get to Boomville."
Demorest and Barker stared. "You fired it?" said Barker, trembling with
excitement.
"Yes," said Stacy. "I couldn't bear to leave the old rookery for coyotes
and wild-cats to gather in, so I touched her off before I left."
"But"--said Barker.
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