Well, he would have to do without his fire. But now he could move more openly and with less fear of detection, for night was closing in. Having slaked his thirst, he pulled his belt in another notch, to lessen the pangs of hunger, and rode on. Togas was ahead--Togas and his sister and an easy chair in their tiny patio. Worth living for! If he reached it with his money still intact, his troubles would be over. He would have enough to start a small business and live the rest of his life in contentment, fearing no man. He would return the four hundred--as soon as he made that much--and send it back to Bardwell Manley. He would start square. He knew that the region he was now in was a favorite place for bandits. Many gangs had made the banks of Whirlpool River their stronghold in days gone by, and rumor had it that one still flourished--the Denver Smith gang. A lone rider, like Jules, with a roll of bills in his pocket, would be meat for them. He had better stop and camp for the night before he ran across any highwaymen. Jules dismounted. He picketed his horse nearby. Then the former bandit drew his coat about him and lay down to rest, fearful that if he proceeded through these dark woods the money he had stolen would be stolen from him. CHAPTER XIV Failure A moment, a breathless, hushed moment, Teddy and Roy stood beneath trees which still dripped from the recent rain, the drops falling in a patter whenever the light breeze stirred the branches. Through the darkness came those low, tense tones. As the boys listened, words separated themselves from the mumble of sound. “... just heard about it,” some one was saying. The speaker had a high, nervous voice which he apparently kept softened by an effort. “Stay out from that shore, Bunk! Wanta have those fools on our necks?” “Aw, yo’re too touchy, Denver,” another whined, and the boys heard the swirl of a paddle being held in the water, evidently to swing the boat around. The craft was probably drifting with the current now, for the listeners could not detect the dip of blades forcing it onward. “They ain’t near here,” the speaker went on. “Go ahead. Let’s have the dope.” Roy leaned closer to Teddy and spoke with his mouth close to his brother’s ear. “We’ll follow,” Roy whispered, and Teddy nodded to show that he understood. Carefully the two boys picked their way along the bank, hoping to hear more before the canoe drifted out of range. “How many times do I have to repeat this?” the one called Denver snarled. “Now listen, you guys. Manley, up on the X Bar X, let a herd of his cattle wander off his ground on to the grazin’ field of Jake Trummer, of Whirlpool River Ranch.” Teddy started, and nudged Roy. His brother did not respond. He was listening intently.