their acts should they fall into the toils of the law. This knowledge steeled them to cover their tracks at any cost.
“Forgive me, Stan. I guess I’ve settled it now,” whispered Bub, his voice choked with sobs.
“Don’t you mind, old man,” soothed Stanley. “If you hadn’t given it to them I should have. Anyway, we’re not dead yet.”
The men moodily prepared their fire and coffee, each seeming to avoid the eyes of the others, as if some fell thought would reveal itself should he raise his head. And yet each knew that his mate was asking himself the same question: How and when? Nor did this change in demeanor fail to carry its warning to the prisoners. Had the men raved and cursed each of the youths would have entertained the glimmer of a hope; but the grim silence, the brief interchange of inquiring looks, all foretold of a horrible plan.
At last, as the coffee was set aside and Ben was digging out the kettle of beans Pete quietly asked, “Shall we wait for Nick?”
“No,” quickly 'replied Joe. “No need of having more in the game than is necessary.”
“I say yes,” spoke up Ben, taking the cover from the kettle and dipping the point of his
