"Jim Hale 'll git him as he goes up the road," said Steve,
calmly-and then with hot impatience, "Why the hell don't he
shoot?

Rome started forward in the moonlight, and Steve caught his arm.
Two bullets hissed from the court-house, and he fell back.

A shot sounded from the bushes far away from the road. The horse
kept on, and splashed into Troubled Fork, and Steve swore bitterly.

"Hit hain't Jim. Hit's that mis'able Bud Vickers; he's been a-stan
din' guard out'n the bushes 'stid o' the road. That was a spy, I tell
ye, 'n' the coward let him in and let him out. They'll know now
we're all drunk! Whut's the matter?

Rome's mouth was half open. He looked white and sick, and Steve
thought he had been hit, but he took off his hat. " Purty close! " he
said, with a laugh, pointing at the bullet-hole through the brim.

Steve, unsuspicious, went on: "Hit was a spy, I tell ye. Bud was
afeard to stan' in the road, 'n' I'm goin' out thar 'n' twist his damned
neck. We've got 'em, Rome! I tell ye, we've got 'em! Ef we kin git
through this night, and git the boys sober in the morning, we've got
'em shore!"

The night did pass in safety, darkness wore away without attack,
and morning broke on the town in its drunken stupor. Then the
curious silence of the Lewallens was explained. The rumor came
that old Jasper was dead, and it went broadcast. Later, friends