sketched in a few words the purport of the document.

"Let me see it," said the girl.

I handed it to her. She began to examine carefully the list of names,
her face turning paler as she read. Tim Westmore looked anxiously over
her shoulder. Suddenly I saw his face congest and his eyes bulge.

"Why! why!" he gasped, "I'm there! What've I ever done, I ask you that?
The old----" he choked, at a loss and groping. Then his anger flared up.
"I've always served him faithful and done what I was told," he muttered,
fiercely. "I'll do him in for this!"

"I am here," observed Miss Emory.

"Yes, and that sot in the chair!" whispered Tim, fiercely.

Again Brower proved he was not asleep by opening one eye.

"Thanks for them kind words," said he.

"We've got to get out of here," stated Tim with conviction.

"That idea just got through your thick British skull?" queried Artie,
rousing again.

"I wish we had some way to carry the young lady--she can't walk," said
Westmore, paying no attention.

"I have my horse tied out by the lone Joshua-tree," I answered him.