“Jim!” they heard her call brokenly.
The gambler leaped erect, stared for a second like one in a trance, and then opened his arms.
“Allie! Allie! Thank heaven for this!”
Wild Bill and Nomad turned away.
“Blame’ funny,” growled the old trapper, “how the smoke from them pesky sulfur matches blurrs a feller’s eyes.”
“That’s right,” said Wild Bill, drawing the back of his hand across his face, “although I never noticed it before.”
“Whatever do ye reckon give Cayuse ther idee thet Mrs. Brisco was dead?”
“I pass. The idea, however the boy got it, gave a powerful wrench to Gentleman Jim’s nerves, and——”
Mechanically, Wild Bill had struck another match and moved off toward the back of the cavernlike room under the ledge. He halted suddenly, staring at a form on the ground in front of him.
“Thunder!” he exclaimed. “Why, here’s Lawless, now.”