Between two and three in the morning they dismounted in front of the Cross-in-a-box ranch house. Loudon pushed open the front door and walked in. He closed the door and set his back against it.
"Hey, Jack!" he called. "Wake up!"
"Who's there?" came in the incisive voice of Richie, accompanied by a double click.
"It's me—Tom Loudon. I want to see yuh a minute."
"That's good hearin'. I'll be right out. Light the lamp, will yuh, Tom?"
Tousle-headed Jack Richie brisked into the dim circle of lamplight and gripped his friend's hand. He was unfeignedly glad to see Loudon.
"C'mon where it's light," invited Richie. "What yuh standin' by the door for? I'll turn the lamp up."
"No, yuh won't. Don't touch the lamp, Jack. There's plenty o' light for my business. I'm standin' here 'cause I don't want nobody to know I come here to-night—nobody but you an' Ramsay."
"I see," said Richie. "Want a hoss?"
"No, ours'll do. Yeah, I've got a friend with me. I can't bring him in. Got to be movin' right quick. I just stopped to know could I borrow Johnny Ramsay for a while. It's on account o' the 88 outfit."