Alone in the cave, it was long before either boy spoke. Then came a rush of angry comment and bitter reflection which interrogated the situation from all sides, tending always to the conclusion that it was mighty hard, when a man had given up his evil courses, when he had just joined the church and was about to get married, to have the whole ugly score to pay. They sat cramped and miserable in their splint-bottomed chairs and the hours wore away till dawn in this dismal converse. Pappy was right--he was mighty right. If they ever got out of this--But there, Blatch wasn't apt to make a failure. It was broad daylight when at last Blatch Turrentine brought his team up and as close to the cave's mouth as he dared. It was loaded already with a considerable amount of furniture and clothing from the cabin, and he climbed down the steep approach to take from the cave the jugged whiskey, and the keg or two which was aging there. His eyes were reddened; but the dark flush which had been on his face had now given place to a curious pallor. There was a new element in his mood, a different note in his bearing, a suggestion of furtive hurry and anxiety. He was not afraid of the marshal. Haley could not be on the mountain before noon. But he had left that behind in the little log stable from which his team came that cried haste to his going. Gord Bosang from whom he was to buy the horses was a man somewhat of Blatch's own ilk. Cavalierly called out of bed after midnight and offered only a partial cash payment--all that Blatch had been able to raise--he had angrily refused to let the team be taken off the place. Turrentine's situation was desperate. He must have the horses. In the quarrel that followed, he struck to clear this obstacle from his path; but whether he had left a dead man lying back there on the hay--whether it was a possible charge of murder he was now fleeing from--he had not stopped to find out. He had got back to his cabin with all haste, pitched his ready belongings into the wagon, and now he came down to the still to get the last, and see that all there was working out right. As his foot reached the opening he uttered a loud exclamation, then leaped into the cave. Both chairs were empty, the ropes lying cut beside them. He sprang back to the rude doorway and gave the usual signal--the screech-owl's cry. It was inappropriate at this time, yet he could not risk less, and he sent it forth again and again. Getting no answer he ventured cautiously to call Gideon Rust's name, and when this failed he looked about him and came to a decision. The boys were gone. The fat was in the fire. Yet--he returned to it--the marshal could not be there before noon. He had time to remove the whiskey if he worked hard enough. He glanced at the still. The worm and appurtenances were of value. He had saved money for nearly two years to buy the new copper-work. He wondered if he might empty and take it also.