people got to hear of their capture; he thought they wouldn't be
any too safe if the boys knew he had them.

If he had known that the Lazy Eight roundup had just pulled in
to the home ranch that afternoon, and that Dick Farney, one of
the Stevens men, had slipped out to the corral and saddled his
swiftest horse, it is quite possible that Lauman would not have
lingered so long over his supper, or drank his third cup of
coffee--with real cream in it--with so great a relish. And if
he had known that the Circle Bar boys were camped just three
miles away within hailing distance of the Lazy Eight trail, he
would doubtless have postponed his after-supper smoke.

He was sitting, revolver in hand, watching the Wagners give a
practical demonstration of the extent of their appetites, when
Thurston limped in from the porch, his eyes darker than usual.
"There are a lot of riders coming, Mr. Lauman," he announced
quietly. "It sounds like a whole roundup. I thought you ought
to know."

The prisoners went white, and put down knife and fork. If they
had never feared before, plainly they were afraid then.

Lauman's face did not in the least change. "Put the hand-cuffs
on, Waller," he said. "If you've got a room that ain't easy to
get at from the outside, Mrs. Stevens, I guess I'll have to ask
yuh for the use of it."

Mrs. Stevens had lived long in Valley County, and had learned
how to meet emergencies. "Put 'em right down cellar," she