"Guess thar's a lynx or a fox or some sich critter sniffin' around outside," he muttered. He put his ear to a gap in the wall and listened. "Dessay it was only my fancy," he decided. "I'm some scared to-night. Allus am when thar's a risky job on hand. Give us another drink, Jim."
The sound which had disturbed him was not repeated, and his two companions paid no regard to his remark. Even if he had been correct in his surmise as to the cause of the rustling movement, there would be no possible danger in the circumstance of a fox or a lynx or any other species of wild creature sniffing around.
Nevertheless, Hen Faxon's sharp hearing had not altogether deceived him, and had his eyesight been as keen—had he put an eye instead of an ear to the open seam between the pine logs at his back—he might even in the darkness have discovered that the actual intruder was much more formidable and dangerous than was any prowling four-footed beast.
"Well, boys," began Red Derrick, pulling vigorously at his pipe. "I figure thar's no p'ticler need fer me ter say a whole lot. You've both of you got as much savee as I have how the thing's got ter be pulled off, and it's up to us ter pull it off successful. Y'see that thar stage coach is bound ter keep schedule time. Alf Bulger'll see to it. Alf's our trump card. He'll join on and take charge of the stage, as per usual, at Soldier's Knee, drivin' his team clean into our arms, so ter speak. He'll be due along the Rattlesnake section an hour before sundown. Just when it's gettin' tolerable dark, he'll enter White Wolf Gulch. That's our point, see? That's whar we're shapin' ter hold him up and collar the boodle."
"Say, thar ain't no doubt 'bout that boodle bein' on board, is there?" Hen Faxon leant forward to inquire.
Red Derrick looked at him severely across the flickering candle-light.
"Not a ghost of a doubt," he said. "Not a shadder. That's the one thing more sartin than anythin' else in the whole biz. Fifty thousand dollars' worth. That's the value, 'cordin' ter Alf, and I reckon Alf should know, him bein' stage driver and in the company's confidence. And say, boys, you've got ter see as Alf don't get scratched."
"Any passengers?" inquired Bill Allison.
Derrick shrugged his broad shoulders.