that he would be able to come upon Morris by surprise. Now he must take him in the midst of many men. With Black Bart slinking at his heels he walked softly across the porch and tiptoed through the front room.
The door to the dining-room was wide. Around the table sat a dozen men, with the sheriff at their head. The latter, somewhat red of face, as if from the effort of a long speech, was talking low and earnestly, sometimes brandishing his clenched fist with such violence that it made his flabby cheeks quiver.
"We'll get to the house right after dawn," he was saying, "because that's the time when most men are so thick-headed with sleep that——"
"Not Whistling Dan Barry," said one of the men, shaking his head. "He won't be thick-headed. Remember, I seen him work in Elkhead, when he slipped through the hands of a roomful of us."
A growl of agreement went around the table, and Black Bart in sympathy, echoed the noise softly.
"What's that?" called the sheriff, raising his head sharply.
Dan, with a quick gesture, made Black Bart slink a pace back.
