For one moment Dozier remained looking from one face to the other. Then he shrugged his shoulders and went slowly up the ladder. It squeaked under his weight, he felt the rungs bow and tremble. Halfway up he turned suddenly, but Pop was sitting as old men will, humming a tune and keeping time to it by patting the bowl of his pipe with a forefinger. And Dozier made up his mind. He turned and came down the ladder. "I guess there's no use looking in the attic," he said. "Same as any other attic, I suppose, Pop?" "The same?" asked Pop, taking the pipe from his mouth. "I should tell a man it ain't. It's my work, that attic is, and it's different. I handled the joinin' of them joists pretty slick, but you better go and see for yourself." And he smiled at the deputy from under his bushy brows. Hal Dozier grinned broadly back at him. "I've seen your work in the cellar, Pop," he said. "I don't want to risk my neck on that ladder. No, I'll have to let it go. Besides, I'll have to round up the boys." He waved farewell, stepped through the door, and closed it behind him. "Grandad," exclaimed Jud in a gasp. The old man silenced him with a raised finger and a sudden frown. He slipped to the door in turn with a step so noiseless that even Jud wondered. Years seemed to have fallen from the shoulders of his grandfather. He opened the door quickly, and there stood the deputy. His back, to be sure, was turned to the door, but he hadn't moved. "Think I see your gang over yonder," said Pop. "They seem to be sort of waitin' for you, Dozier." The other turned and twisted one glance up at the old man. "Thanks," he said shortly and strode away. Pop closed the door and sank into a chair. He seemed suddenly to have aged again. "Oh, grandad," said Jud, "how'd you guess he was there all the time?" "I dunno," said Pop. "Don't bother me." "But why'd you beg him to look into the attic? Didn't you know he'd see him right off?" "Because he goes by contraries, Jud. He wouldn't of started for the ladder at all, if you hadn't told him he'd probably break his neck on it. Only when he seen I didn't care, he made up his mind he didn't want to see that attic." "And if he'd gone up?" whispered Jud. "Don't ask me what would of happened," said Pop. All his bony frame was shaken by a shiver. "Is he such a fine fighter?" asked Jud. "Fighter?" echoed Pop. "Oh, lad, he's the greatest hand with a gun that ever shoved foot into stirrup. He--he was like a bulldog on a trail--and all I had for a rope to hold him was just a little spider thread of thinking. Gimme some coffee, Jud. I've done a day's work." CHAPTER 27