"Mr. Johnson," he said, "have you joined the Scarborough gang? Oh, you ain't, eh? You're a neutral! Well, try to act the part then, or we'll come over and clean you out. Good day--and keep your mouth shut." They rode back heavy laden with supplies and tobacco, for the Bassetts looked forward to a siege; but no siege came and they went to slaughtering hogs, oblivious of the Scarboroughs' threat. It was Winchester who took the lead, for the banter of the sheepman had stung him to the quick; and day or night he rode forth boldly, gathering horses or riding to his hounds. If Old Henry disapproved he did nothing to show it, and Bill and Sharps worked on stoically; but the Indian woman sat where she could always see the hills and Hall watched the Rock House through his glasses. A week went by and no storm broke upon them, the Scarboroughs had gone west to work their cattle; and then in the night Hall heard the hounds rush out, and a woman's voice called for help. The Bassetts sprang up and ran to their loop-holes, for their first thought was always of treachery; but Hall recognized the voice and rushed out through the doorway, striking the hounds aside as he ran. "Allifair!" he cried, gathering her close into his arms and lifting her up from the dogs; and as the Bassetts stood staring he carried her into the house while the hounds followed meechingly behind. CHAPTER XII THE MAN-KILLING BASSETTS She stood trembling and holding close to him, her eyes on the swarthy Bassetts and the old squaw who was stirring up the fire; but when they had retired and left the lovers to themselves Allifair whispered swift words into Hall's ears. "They're coming," she warned. "I know it for a certainty, because Meshackatee told me himself. And they're going to kill all the Bassetts!" He gripped her and sat still, his eyes on the weak blaze which was lapping the black stones of the fireplace, and then he inclined his head. The Bassett boys were near, lying stolidly on their beds, which they had dragged back a little into the darkness, but he knew that some of them were listening. The jealous-eyed Sharps had never ceased to watch him since the day he had come to the house; and, seeing him now with this niece of the Scarboroughs, his ears would be straining for every word. "They're strangers," she whispered, "some Slash-knife men that Isham sent out and hired secretly. And when they ride up and catch the Bassetts off their guard, they're to draw their guns and shoot." He gripped her again, for she was whispering too loud--or so it seemed to his jangled nerves--and then he sat waiting in the silence. It pressed in upon him, as oppressive as the darkness, as fearful as the thoughts it brought up; and the stir of their breathing, even the beating of their hearts, took on a terrible distinctness. But her message was not finished, and as he held her close she whispered very softly in his ear.