"I don't know that you're after a job, but I'm sure I need you. There's no use hemming and hawing--I've made a cussed fool of myself this evenin', and the boys are just about going to drink up my salary for me this coming week. I can't afford _not_ to have you my deputy because you unlimbered your gun a grain of a second before me--beat me at my own trick. I need you--now what do you say?" Mose took time to reply. "I sure need a job for the winter," he admitted, "but I don't believe I want to do this." The marshal urged him to accept. "I'll call in the newspaper men and let them tell the whole story of your life, and of our little jamboree to-day--they'll fix up a yarn that'll paralyze the hold-up gang. Together we'll swoop down on the town. I've been planning a clean-out for some weeks, and I need you to help me turn 'em loose." Mose arose. "I guess not; I'm trying to keep clear of gun-play these days. I've never hunted that kind of thing, and I won't start in on a game that's sure to give me trouble." The marshal argued. "Set down; listen; that's the point exactly. The minute the boys know who you are we won't _need_ to shoot. That's the reason I want you--the reporters will prepare the way. Wherever we go the 'bad men' will scatter." But Mose was inexorable. "No, I can't do it. I took just such a job once--I don't want another." Haney was deeply disappointed, but shook hands pleasantly. "Well, good-night; drop in any time." Mose went out into the street once more. He was hungry, and so turned in at the principal hotel in the city for a "good square meal." An Italian playing the violin and his boy accompanying him on the harp, made up a little orchestra. Some palms in pots, six mirrors set between the windows, together with tall, very new, oak chairs gave the dining room a magnificence which abashed the bold heart of the trailer for a moment. However, his was not a nature to show timidity, and taking a seat he calmly spread his damp napkin on his knee and gave his order to the colored waiter (the Palace Hotel had the only two colored waiters in Wagon Wheel) with such grace as he could command after long years upon the trail. As he lifted his eyes he became aware of "the princess" seated at another table and facing him. She seemed older than when he saw her in the carriage. Her face was high-colored, and her hair a red-brown. Her eyes were half closed, and her mouth drooped at the corners. Her chin, supported on her left hand, glittering with jewels, was pushed forward aggressively, and she listened with indifference to the talk of her companion, a dark, smooth-featured man, with a bitter and menacing smile.