Beth Norvell

The two men, watching him closely, exchanged glances.

"All right, Burke," and Winston held up his rifle suggestively. "You

can get up, only stay close to us, wid no tricks. I want you, and I

want you bad. If you make any break, there 'll be a dead Irishman this

time sure. Is that you, Mike?"

"Sure, sor."

"Good; you've come just in time. Drop your muzzle on this native son,

and if the fellow makes a suspicious move, plug him, you understand?"

"Ye bet Oi do, sor. Sthep out there, Burke, yer slab-sided boss o'

Swades, or Oi 'll show ye what a dacent Oirishman--an O'Brien,

bedad,--thinks o' the loikes of ye; Oi will that."

With sympathetic gentleness, and in all the tenderness possible, their

eyes moist, and everything else forgotten excepting their sad task,

Hicks and Winston kneeled on the hard rock and lifted the slender

figure of Mercedes in their arms. Slowly, without the exchange of a

word, the little concourse turned in the darkness, and advanced in the

direction of the cabin, bearing the silent burden. They walked with

bowed heads and careful steps, their hearts heavy. With a faint whinny

the girl's deserted pony trotted forward from out the shadow where he

had been left, sniffed at her trailing skirt with outstretched nose,

and fell in behind, walking with head bent almost to the ground as

though he also understood and mourned. Winston glanced, marvelling,

back at the animal, hastily brushing a tear from out his own eye; yet

his lips remained set and rigid. He felt no doubt about who it was

Brown was seeking through the black night. When they met, it would be

a battle to the death.

Before the still open door of the cabin they silently lowered their

burden in the shadow of the building. An instant they stood there

listening intently for any sound to reach them from out the surrounding

night. Then Winston, assuming the duty, stepped reluctantly forward

endeavoring to peer within. His heart throbbed from the pain of that

sudden message of death he brought.

"Beth," he called, perceiving no movement within, and compelling his

voice to calmness. "Miss Norvell."

There was a slight movement near the farther wall, but it was the voice

of the wounded sheriff which answered.

"Who are yer? What was all that firin' about just now? Damn if I ain

't too weak ter git up, but I got a gun yere, an' reckon I kin pull the

trigger."

"It's Winston and Hicks. We 've had a skirmish out beyond the dump.

Those fellows tried to blow up our shaft, and we caught them at it. Is

Miss Norvell here?"

"No, I reckon not; she was sittin' yere talkin' to me when that

shootin' begun, an' then she ran out the door thar. Anybody git hurt?"