At this, Shoshone Pete came over to where Pierson was standing and, with the hearty good-fellowship of the men in that locality, said, sympathetically: “Too bad, pardner. Kin I do anything for you? You’ve only got to say it.” “Nothing, thank you. All we need is rest and quiet. As I was just telling Duffy, we need nothing but quiet, as the sight of strangers always excites my daughter.” “Well, there’ll be no shooting-matches here that I can stop as long as you stay. Say, Snakes, you just give the boys a tip, and tell ’em that I’ll plug the first galoot that lets his gun go off by mistake.” Pierson well knew the loyalty to womankind and the rough, but honest, chivalry that made every miner and cowboy the knight errant of every good woman in the wild country, and began to wish that he had remained in New York, or some other big city, where it is so easy to hide. He could have put both Muriel and Dora out of the way in a crowded city, and before the police had even learned of the crime. Snakes hurried the arrangement of the two rooms, so that they should be fit to receive the ladies, and this consisted mostly in wiping the accumulation of dust from the furniture, and putting the table cover askew, as men always seem to do. A broom was brought into requisition and all the dust was swept under the rickety bureau, just where a woman’s eye would see it first, but where the men fondly believed it hidden from view. While this rapid-fire housecleaning was progressing, Pierson had stepped outside and waved his handkerchief to the two women who were stationed some distance away. Snakes turned to Shoshone Pete, saying that that man, Blakely, claimed to have known him in Cheyenne, but, to save his life, he could not place the man’s face, though there was something familiar in his voice. Then it was suggested by one of the men who had remained seated at the table that they should continue their game. “Whose play is it?” asked Snakes. “Whose play nothin’. It’s your ante. Don’t try to sneak out of duty, like that,” said Dan, with one eye on the door and one on the table. The arrival of women was a rare occurrence in this place, and the interest quite overshadowed the merits of the game. John and Dopey walked along a little outside the hotel, so as to be out of earshot, and Dopey asked anxiously if it was all right. “Dead easy. I spun them a yarn about my poor, crazy daughter who needed silence and quiet and plenty of it. They’re such idiots about women out here that they will do any and every thing they can to make her comfortable.” “Youse’ll be a fool if you harms de young one. She’s been de trick dat carries us thro’, see?” “Yes, but she may recover her reason at any time and give us away. The first time that I can get that cat Muriel off guard, I’ll put her out of the way for good. Our very lives depend upon it!”