“Gratton’s got no gun with him,” cackled Benny Rudge.  “Neither’s that other guy.  Come ahead, Steve.  Me an’ you’ll pull ’em out.”

Gloria pressed back against the rock, her flesh quivering.  She saw two men and then another two coming toward her.  The first sound broke from Gratton’s lips now, a little gurgling moan.  The men came on; one had heard and laughed.  Then Gloria, with more shuddersome thought of rough hands upon her than of a rifle-ball, broke away from her cowering companion and came hastily to meet them.

“I’m coming out,” she cried out to them.

It was all that she could do to hold herself erect and come back into the more open cave.  Jarrold and Benny and the men after them came to a dead halt and stared at her.  In the flickering half-light she looked a slim frightened boy.

“All of a sudden the woods is gettin’ all cluttered up with folks,” grunted Benny.  “Who in blazes are you, kid?  An’ where’s your mamma?”

His companions laughed; they laughed at anything.  One of them, Steve Jarrold, came closer to look into her face.  She saw that his steps were uncertain; she had heard how thick was his vocal utterance; now she smelled the whiskey with which he reeked.

A shout broke from Jarrold.  He clutched her shoulder with a great claw of a hand and drew her closer to him, his face thrust down to hers.

“Let me go!” she cried, trying to jerk away from him.

“Easy does it,” said Jarrold.  “Easy—­kid!  I’m of a notion I’ve seen that face of yours somewheres.”

“Never mind the kid,” Brodie was growling savagely.  “It’s Gratton first.  Out with him, Benny.”

The others bore down upon Gratton.  He had found his voice now; he shrieked at them; he begged shrilly; he battered them with his fists, striking weak, vain blows.  Benny, though the smaller man, had him by the collar.  The Italian caught an arm, and as they dragged him half-fainting toward the fire, Brail struck at him with a heavy boot.

“So,” said Brodie heavily.

Gratton began an incoherent pleading, arrested impatiently by Brodie’s great voice.

“Shut up!  You’ve had your innings; it’s mine now.  You swiped grub when it’s the same thing as slitting a man’s gullet.  You let another man be killed for what you done.  Now you get yours!”

He jerked up his rifle.  Benny and the Italian let Gratton go and jumped nimbly aside.  Gratton stumbled and sagged, staggering like a drunken man.  Brodie, with his rifle-barrel not six feet from Gratton’s terror-stricken body, laughed again.

“Stop!” Gloria shrilled.  She broke away from Jarrold’s grasp and ran toward Brodie.  “You don’t know what you are doing.  You——­”

“Close your trap, kid,” Brodie thundered at her.  “Unless you want the second bullet.”

Jarrold’s big boots came clumping noisily across the rock floor.

“Easy does it, Brodie,” he shouted.  “She ain’t no kid, I tell you.  She’s a girl.  That’s Ben Gaynor’s girl, the one Gratton wanted to marry, the one King took away from him.  Keep your eye peeled; King would be around somewhere!”