“I dunno. Mebbe he has, and mebbe he ain’t. But he’s silent now, and prob’bly has cut out, seein’ that the force hyar is too big fer him. But you bet he’ll be comin’ back ag’in; and when he does, somethin’ will be doin’.” CHAPTER XIV. THE LIVING BARRICADE. In one way, it was unfortunate that Pizen Jane had released old Nomad at that time. A road agent who had heard the cry of the dog owl from the hut, and wondered about it, came over to investigate, and appeared so suddenly and inopportunely that he discovered what Pizen Jane had done. With a yell of astonishment and wrath, he hurled the woman aside and leaped on the old trapper. Under ordinary conditions, Nomad might have engaged this desperado successfully; but now his arms and legs were benumbed, and his whole body was sore and stiff, from the long congestion of blood caused by the bonds that had been on him. Nevertheless, though surprised, and taken at such a disadvantage, the old trapper put up a stiff fight. He slashed a wide gash in the outlaw’s face with the knife Pizen Jane had given him; and then, tripping the outlaw, he rolled with him over and over on the floor, clawing and striking with all his might. Pizen Jane flew to the aid of Nomad, and set upon the road agent. How the singular combat would have ended, if there had been no interference, cannot be stated. There was interference. Other outlaws, drawn by the noise, ran to the hut; and in a very little while both old Nomad and Pizen Jane were overpowered and their weapons taken from them. Snaky Pete came to the hut, drawn by the yells of his men, and learned what had happened. His rage passed all bounds. He drew a revolver, and for an instant it seemed that he meant to shoot both old Nomad and Pizen Jane. Then another thought came to him. “Tie ’em, and keep ’em tied,” he said; “and send Pool Clayton here. I want to see him bad.” That sounded ominous. Pool Clayton was called, and came forward with fear and trembling. He had told his mother not long before that he was willing to leave the outlaws, and glad to do it, if she would accompany him. He had been expecting that she would do that soon. It was delayed, he thought, by the difficulty of getting out of the camp. The young man had been given a good deal of time for serious reflection. His dreams of what a road agent’s life was like had not come true; and, besides, he had been aroused to a realization of the enormity of the offense itself. In addition, his heart had been touched by his mother. But perhaps the strongest of the forces that had moved him was a recollection of Snaky Pete’s commands to him to shoot old Nomad. That, with his present fear of personal danger in the battle with the troopers that seemed imminent, had made him want to get out of the camp without delay.