“Snake, thet's no fault of mine the deal's miscarried. I was square. I made my offer for the workin' out of my plan. It 'ain't been done. Now there's hell to pay an' I'm through.” “Beasley, I reckon I couldn't hold you to anythin',” replied Anson, slowly. “But if you was square you ain't square now. We've hung around an' tried hard. My men are all sore. An' we're broke, with no outfit to speak of. Me an' you never fell out before. But I reckon we might.” “Do I owe you any money--accordin' to the deal?” demanded Beasley. “No, you don't,” responded Anson, sharply. “Then thet's square. I wash my hands of the whole deal. Make Riggs pay up. He's got money an' he's got plans. Go in with him.” With that Beasley spurred his horse, wheeled and rode away. The outlaws gazed after him until he disappeared in the cedars. “What'd you expect from a greaser?” queried Shady Jones. “Anson, didn't I say so?” added Burt. The black-visaged Moze rolled his eyes like a mad bull and Jim Wilson studiously examined a stick he held in his hands. Riggs showed immense relief. “Anson, stake me to some of your outfit an' I'll ride off with the girl,” he said, eagerly. “Where'd you go now?” queried Anson, curiously. Riggs appeared at a loss for a quick answer; his wits were no more equal to this predicament than his nerve. “You're no woodsman. An' onless you're plumb locoed you'd never risk goin' near Pine or Show Down. There'll be real trackers huntin' your trail.” The listening girl suddenly appealed to Wilson. “Don't let him take me off--alone--in the woods!” she faltered. That was the first indication of her weakening. Jim Wilson broke into gruff reply. “I'm not bossin' this gang.” “But you're a man!” she importuned. “Riggs, you fetch along your precious firebrand an' come with us,” said Anson, craftily. “I'm particular curious to see her brand you.” “Snake, lemme take the girl back to Pine,” said Jim Wilson. Anson swore his amaze. “It's sense,” continued Wilson. “We've shore got our own troubles, an' keepin' her 'll only add to them. I've a hunch. Now you know I ain't often givin' to buckin' your say-so. But this deal ain't tastin' good to me. Thet girl ought to be sent home.” “But mebbe there's somethin' in it for us. Her sister 'd pay to git her back.” “Wal, I shore hope you'll recollect I offered--thet's all,” concluded Wilson. “Jim, if we wanted to git rid of her we'd let Riggs take her off,” remonstrated the outlaw leader. He was perturbed and undecided. Wilson worried him. The long Texan veered around full faced. What subtle transformation in him! “Like hell we would!” he said. It could not have been the tone that caused Anson to quail. He might have been leader here, but he was not the greater man. His face clouded. “Break camp,” he ordered. Riggs had probably not heard that last exchange between Anson and Wilson, for he had walked a few rods aside to get his horse.