“I've backed out on the other deal. Sent for you on -- on another little matter ... particular private.”

Here he indicated with a significant gesture that Snake's men were to leave the cabin.

“A-huh! ejaculated Anson, dubiously. Then he turned abruptly. Moze, you an' Shady an' Burt go wait outside. Reckon this ain't the deal I expected.... An' you can saddle the hosses.”

The three members of the gang filed out, all glancing keenly at the stranger, who had moved back into the shadow.

“All right now, Beasley,” said Anson, low-voiced. “What's your game? Jim, here, is in on my deals.”

Then Beasley came forward to the fire, stretching his hands to the blaze.

“Nothin' to do with sheep,” replied he.

“Wal, I reckoned not,” assented the other. “An' say -- whatever your game is, I ain't likin' the way you kept me waitin' an' ridin' around. We waited near all day at Big Spring. Then thet greaser rode up an' sent us here. We're a long way from camp with no grub an' no blankets”

“I won't keep you long,” said Beasley. “But even if I did you'd not mind -- when I tell you this deal concerns Al Auchincloss -- the man who made an outlaw of you!”

Anson's sudden action then seemed a leap of his whole frame. Wilson, likewise, bent forward eagerly. Beasley glanced at the door -- then began to whisper.

“Old Auchincloss is on his last legs. He's goin' to croak. He's sent back to Missouri for a niece -- a young girl -- an' he means to leave his ranches an' sheep -- all his stock to her. Seems he has no one else. . . . Them ranches -- an' all them sheep an' hosses! You know me an' Al were pardners in sheep-raisin' for years. He swore I cheated him an' he threw me out. An' all these years I've been swearin' he did me dirt -- owed me sheep an' money. I've got as many friends in Pine -- an' all the way down the trail -- as Auchincloss has. . . . An' Snake, see here --”

He paused to draw a deep breath and his big hands trembled over the blaze. Anson leaned forward, like a serpent ready to strike, and Jim Wilson was as tense with his divination of the plot at hand.

“See here,” panted Beasley. “The girl's due to arrive at Magdalena on the sixteenth. That's a week from to-morrow. She'll take the stage to Snowdrop, where some of Auchincloss's men will meet her with a team.”

“A-huh!” grunted Anson as Beasley halted again. “An' what of all thet?”

“She mustn't never get as far as Snowdrop!”

“You want me to hold up the stage -- an' get the girl?”

“Exactly.”

"Wal -- an' what then?

Make off with her.