"I hears tell that this here Jack Allen is faster than his brother Jim," Bill Tucker boomed. "Not any," Pop declared shortly but emphatically. "Wonder if the two speak? It's darn funny--Jack comes here to clean up this town, an' here is Jim, his brother, the best of all the jailbirds." The marshal chuckled as if he found the situation amusing. Hard-rock Hogan was one of the men who had worked in and about mines since early childhood; he had lived all his life among rough, violent men, and his experience with human nature was vast. He had discovered that many men used words to hide their thoughts, while others cultivated a masklike face after the manner of Baldy Kane. He glanced curiously at Bill Tucker. Now he saw only the tragedy that lay beneath the meeting of two brothers in such circumstances, and he wondered if the town marshal had been aware the two would meet when he sent his invitation to Jack Allen. He was curious as to that, but he was more curious as to the reason behind the invitation; he was reasonably sure Tucker had some hidden motive. Hogan was still pondering the matter when the door opened and Jack Allen entered. The famous Wyoming sheriff and United States marshal was cool and collected. His eyes swept the room and rested on each man in turn. Most of the miners met his searching gaze unflinchingly. But there were one or two men there who hastily looked away, for they had a feeling that Allen's rather hard brown eyes might read more than they cared to tell. Bill Tucker stepped forward and introduced Allen to the assembly. "Howdy, gents!" Jack greeted them. They murmured a reply, then all grew silent. "Suppose yuh give me a line on what's been goin' on here," the little man suggested. "It's this way," Bill Tucker explained. "The placers has been givin' out an' there ain't nothin' but quartz mining hereabouts now. About eight mines are workin' sinkin' shafts. The veins are darned thin but mighty rich. About four months ago some gang started stealin' quartz, an' since then every darn mine has been robbed." "On the quiet or with guns?" Allen interrupted. "Sometimes one, sometimes the other. The last time this here gang worked they held up the American Beauty--about a week ago--shot one guard, locked up the workers, and made off with about four thousand dollars in quartz," the town marshal explained. "When did you find out about it?" Jack Allen asked. Pop Howes cut into the conversation. "I was stayin' in town that night with my wife an' went out to the mine about daylight. I find a young Mex kid I left in the house, gunned proper, an' the rest locked up, so I come into town an' fetched Bill Tucker." "Yuh track 'em? Where did they go?"