The sudden look of joyous expectation, so poorly disguised, on Henry’s face acted on Tex like the warning whirr of an angry rattlesnake and he quietly cleaned and oiled his guns, broke out a fresh box of cartridges, and dumped them into his right-hand pocket. The remaining chloral-filled shells he slipped in the pocket of his chaps. Shaking up the flask of whiskey to make certain of the crystals being dissolved and the drug evenly distributed throughout the fluid, he hid it again and, seating himself in his favorite place, awaited the opening number. Darkness had just closed down when Tommy loped in from the ranch and stopped to say a few careless, friendly words, but he never uttered them, for the marshal’s instructions were snapping forth before the C Bar rider could open his mouth. "This is no time for pleasantries!" said Tex in a voice low and tense. "Turn around, ride back a way, circle around th’ town an’ leave yore cayuse a couple of hundred yards from Murphy’s box car. Tell him trouble’s brewin’ an’ to look sharp. Then you head for her house, actin’ as cautious, an’ go up to it on foot, an’ as secretly as you know how. Lay low, outside. Don’t show yourself at all--a man in th’ dark will be worth five in th’ light tonight. Stay there no matter what you hear in town. If she should see you, on yore life don’t let her think there’s any danger--on yore life, Tommy! Mebby there ain’t, but there’s no tellin’ what drunken beast will remember that there’s a woman close at hand. You stay there till daylight, or till I relieve you. Get-a-goin’--an’ good luck!" Tommy carried out his orders, gave Murphy the warning, and was gone again before the big Irishman, seething with rage at his crew’s disobedience, could say more than a few words. Murphy had been forced to construct a plan of his own, and he wished to get word of it to the marshal’s ears. Tommy having left so quickly, he could not send it. Convincing himself that it was not really necessary for the marshal to be told of it, and savagely pleased by the surprise in store for him and every man in town, the section-boss went ahead on his own initiative. Going to the toolshed he went in, frowning at the thoroughly cowed and humbled crew, blew out the lamps and with hearty curses ordered the gang to put their car on the rails and to start east for the next town. "Roll her softly, by hand, till ye get out av th’ hearin’ av this hell-town, an’ then board her, an’ put yore weight on th’ handles," he commanded. "An’ don’t ye come back till I send for ye. Costigan an’ me are plannin’ work for ourselves an’ will not go with ye. Lively, now--an’ no back talk. A lot depends on yer doin’ as yer told. One more order disobeyed an’ I’ll brain th’ pack av ye with a crowbar. Ye’ve raised h--l enough this night. Now git out av here, an’ mind what I’ve told ye!"