Rudd complied with this suggestion, and obeyed Loudon's request that he step rearward a few feet and turn his back. Loudon laid down his rifle and drew his six-shooter. With his left hand he scooped the belt to one side and picked up the white object. His eyes told him that it was a lady's knotted handkerchief, and his fingers that three twenty-dollar gold pieces were contained therein. Loudon could not have been more astounded if Rudd had suddenly sprouted two horns and a tail. "Good-bye one small drunk an' a new saddle," remarked Rudd, hearing the clinking of the gold. "You ---- sneak!" snarled Marvin, approaching under convoy of Laguerre. "I wondered what yuh wanted yore money for this mornin'. I've been watchin' yuh for the last two weeks. I seen yuh a-comin' back from the Bar S range three days ago. Tryin' to sell us out, huh?" "Yo're a liar," retorted Rudd, calmly. "I ain't tellin' nothin' I know. Not that I know nothin' nohow." "By ----, gents!" exclaimed Marvin. "I ask yuh as a favour to just gimme ten minutes barehanded with that tin-horn! Yuh can do what you like with me after." "We will anyway," said Loudon. "What is this--a sewin' circle?" Rudd inquired, contemptuously. "I'd as soon die o' snakebite as be talked to death." "Well, if I was you, Tom Loudon," sneered Marvin, "I'd try to find out just what Rudd means by meetin' Old Salt's girl. There may be more to it than----" "Come round in front here, Marvin," commanded Loudon. "Come all the way round. That's it. Telescope, will yuh kindly keep an eye on the other party? Now, Marvin, get down on yore knees. Down, yuh yellow pup! Yo're a-crowdin' the Gates Ajar so close yuh can hear 'em creak. Marvin, say, 'I'm ashamed o' myself, an' I take it back, an' I didn't mean nothin' nohow.' Say it out real loud." Slowly, his face a mask of venomous hate, Marvin repeated the words. "Get up, an' face round," continued Loudon. "No, not so close to Rudd. About five yards to his right, so yuh won't be tempted." For the past two minutes Loudon had been aware of Kate's approach. But he did not turn his head even when she halted her horse almost beside him. "What do you intend doing with these men, Tom?" she inquired, a perceptible pause between the last two words of the sentence. "Take 'em to the Cross-in-a-box," replied Loudon, without looking at her. "They'll hang--in time." "May I have a few words alone with you?" "Shore, ma'am, shore. I guess two won't be too many to watch, Telescope." He walked at Kate's stirrup till they were out of earshot. Then he turned and looked up into her face in silence. She gazed at him with a curious, questioning look in her black eyes. She had become thinner since their last meeting. But her lips were as red as ever. She had lost none of her beauty. Loudon raised his hand. In the open palm was the knotted bit of linen containing the gold pieces. "Here's yore handkerchief," said he.