"Beasley's comin' one way an' Shady's comin' another. We'll be off this hot point of rock by noon," said the outlaw leader.
Riggs went on to the promontory to look for himself.
"Where's the girl?" demanded Anson, in surprise, when he got back to the camp.
"Wal, she's walkin' 'round between heah an' Pine," drawled Wilson.
"Jim, you let her loose?"
"Shore I did. She's been hawg-tied all the time. An' she said she'd not run off. I'd take thet girl's word even to a sheep-thief."
"A-huh. So would I, for all of thet. But, Jim, somethin's workin' in you. Ain't you sort of rememberin' a time when you was young--an' mebbe knowed pretty kids like this one?"
"Wal, if I am it 'll shore turn out bad fer somebody."
Anson gave him a surprised stare and suddenly lost the bantering tone.
"A-huh! So thet's how it's workin'," he replied, and flung himself down in the shade.
Young Burt made his appearance then, wiping his sallow face. His deep-set, hungry eyes, upon which his comrades set such store, roved around the camp.
"Whar's the gurl?" he queried.
"Jim let her go out fer a stroll," replied Anson.
"I seen Jim was gittin' softy over her. Haw! Haw! Haw!"
But Snake Anson did not crack a smile. The atmosphere appeared not to be congenial for jokes, a fact Burt rather suddenly divined. Riggs and Moze returned from the promontory, the latter reporting that Shady Jones was riding up close. Then the girl walked slowly into sight and approached to find a seat within ten yards of the group. They waited in silence until the expected horseman rode up with water-bottles slung on both sides of his saddle. His advent was welcome. All the men were thirsty. Wilson took water to the girl before drinking himself.
"Thet's an all-fired hot ride fer water," declared the outlaw Shady, who somehow fitted his name in color and impression. "An', boss, if it's the same to you I won't take it ag'in."
"Cheer up, Shady. We'll be rustlin' back in the mountains before sundown," said Anson.
"Hang me if that ain't the cheerfulest news I've hed in some days. Hey, Moze?"
The black-faced Moze nodded his shaggy head.
"I'm sick an' sore of this deal," broke out Burt, evidently encouraged by his elders. "Ever since last fall we've been hangin' 'round--till jest lately freezin' in camps--no money--no drink--no grub wuth havin'. All on promises!"