cover while they whispered.

"The 'dobe house over to the right," said Bob. "I been up and tried to
look in, but they got curtains drawn. I would've like to 've seen how
many gents are present. Nothin' doin'. It's a strictly private party."

Dave told him what he had learned from the daughter of Emerson Crawford.

"Might make a gather of boys and raid the joint," suggested Hart.

"Bad medicine, Bob. Our work's got to be smoother than that. How do we
know they got the old man a prisoner there? What excuse we got for
attacktin' a peaceable house? A friend of mine's brother onct got shot
up makin' a similar mistake. Maybe Crawford's there. Maybe he ain't. Say
he is. All right. There's some gun-play back and forth like as not. A
b'ilin' of men pour outa the place. We go in and find the old man with a
bullet right spang through his forehead. Well, ain't that too bad! In the
rookus his own punchers must 'a' gunned him accidental. How would that
story listen in court?"

"It wouldn't listen good to me. Howcome Crawford to be a prisoner there,
I'd want to know."

"Sure you would, and Steelman would have witnesses a-plenty to swear the
old man had just drapped in to see if they couldn't talk things over and
make a settlement of their troubles."

"All right. What's yore programme, then?" asked Bob.

"Darned if I know. Say we scout the ground over first."