Yeager said he expected to be there.

"With yore friend the rustler?" asked Healy insolently over his
shoulder.

"I haven't got any friend that's a rustler."

"I'm speaking of Mr. Larrabie Keller." There was a slurring inflection
on the prefix.

"He'll be there, I shouldn't wonder."

"I'd wonder a heap," retorted Healy. "You'll see he won't show his face
there."

"That's where you're wrong, Brill. He told me he was going," spoke up
Phil triumphantly.

"We'll see. He's wise to the fact that this country knows him for an
out-and-out crook. He'll stay in his hole."

"You going, Slim?" asked Purdy amiably, to turn the conversation into a
more pacific channel.

"Sure," answered that young giant, getting lazily to his feet. "Well,
sons, the boss is right. Time to pound our ears."

They rolled themselves in their blankets, the starry sky roofing their
bedroom. Within five minutes every man of them was asleep except the