The three members of the gang filed out, all glancing keenly
at the stranger, who had moved back into the shadow.

"All right now, Beasley," said Anson, low-voiced. "What's
your game? Jim, here, is in on my deals."

Then Beasley came forward to the fire, stretching his hands
to the blaze.

"Nothin' to do with sheep," replied he.

"Wal, I reckoned not," assented the other. "An' say --
whatever your game is, I ain't likin' the way you kept me
waitin' an' ridin' around. We waited near all day at Big
Spring. Then thet greaser rode up an' sent us here. We're a
long way from camp with no grub an' no blankets"

"I won't keep you long," said Beasley. "But even if I did
you'd not mind -- when I tell you this deal concerns Al
Auchincloss -- the man who made an outlaw of you!"

Anson's sudden action then seemed a leap of his whole frame.
Wilson, likewise, bent forward eagerly. Beasley glanced at
the door -- then began to whisper.

"Old Auchincloss is on his last legs. He's goin' to croak.
He's sent back to Missouri for a niece -- a young girl --
an' he means to leave his ranches an' sheep -- all his stock
to her. Seems he has no one else. . . . Them ranches -- an'
all them sheep an' hosses! You know me an' Al were pardners