coming to the edge of the town for the bodies of the dead
Lewallens confirmed it. A random ball had passed through old
Lewallen's body in the wild flight for the woods, and during the
night he had spent his last breath in a curse against the man who
fired it.

Then each Stetson, waked from his drunken sleep, drank again
when he heard of the death. The day bade fair to be like the night,
and again the anxiety of the leaders was edged with fear. Old
Jasper dead and young Jasper a prisoner, the chance was near to
end the feud, or there would be no Lewallen left to lead their
enemies. But, again, they were wellnigh helpless. Already they
had barely enough men to guard their prisoners. Of the Marcums,
Steve alone was able to handle a Winchester, and outside the
sounds of the carousal were in the air and growing louder. In a
little while, if the Lewallens but knew it, escape would be easy and
the Stetsons could be driven from the town.

Oh, they know it," said Steve. "They'll be a-whoopin' down out O'
them woods purty soon, 'n' we re goin to ketch hell. I'd like to
know mighty well who that spy was last night. That cussed Bud
Vickers says it was a ha'nt, on a white hoss, with long hair flyin' in
the wind, 'n' that he shot plumb through it. I jus' wish I'd a had a
chance at it."

Still, noon came again without trouble, and the imprisoned
Lewallens had been twenty-four hours without food. Their
ammunition was getting scarce. The firing was less frequent,
though the watch was as close as ever, and twice a Winchester had
sounded a signal of distress. All knew that a response must come