“Adios!” whispered the master.

“Adios!” returned his man simultaneously with the approach of the Deputy towards them.

It was then that the Girl’s gay, happy voice floated in on them from the dance-hall; she cried out: 

“Good-night, boys, good-night!  Remember me to The Ridge!”

“You bet we will!  So long!  Whoop!  Whooppee!” chorussed the men, while the Deputy, grabbing the Mexican by the collar, ordered him to, “Come on!”

The situation was not without its humorous side to the road agent; he could not resist following the crowd to the door where he stood and watched his would-be captors silently mount; listened to the Sheriff give the word, which was immediately followed by the sound of horses grunting as they sprang forward into the darkness in a desperate effort to escape the maddening pain of the descending quirts and cruel spurs.  It was a scene to set the blood racing through the veins, viewed in any light; and not until the yells of the men had grown indistinct, and all that could be heard was the ever-decreasing sound of rushing hoofs, did the outlaw turn back into the saloon over which there hung a silence which, by contrast, he found strangely depressing.

VIII.

There was a subtle change, an obvious lack of warmth in Johnson’s manner, which the Girl was quick to feel upon returning to the now practically deserted saloon.

“Don’t it feel funny here—­kind o’ creepy?” She gave the words a peculiar emphasis, which made Johnson flash a quick, inquisitorial look at her; and then, no comment being forthcoming, she went on to explain:  “I s’pose though that’s ‘cause I don’t remember seein’ the bar so empty before.”

A somewhat awkward silence followed, which at length was broken by the Girl, who ordered: 

“Lights out now!  Put out the candle here, too, Nick!” But while the little barkeeper proceeded to carry out her instructions she turned to Johnson with an eager, frank expression on her face, and said:  “Oh, you ain’t goin’, are you?”

“No—­not yet—­no—­” stammered Johnson, half-surprisedly, half-wonderingly.

The Girl’s face wore a pleased look as she answered: 

“Oh, I’m so glad o’ that!”

Another embarrassing silence followed.  At last Nick made a movement towards the window, saying: 

“I’m goin’ to put the shutters up.”

“So early?  What?” The Girl looked her surprise.

“Well, you see, the boys are out huntin’ Ramerrez, and there’s too much money here . . .” said Nick in a low tone.

The Girl laughed lightly.

“Oh, all right—­cash in—­but don’t put the head on the keg—­I ain’t cashed in m’self yet.”

Rolling the keg to one side of the room, Nick beckoned to the Girl to come close to him, which she did; and pointing to Johnson, who was strolling about the room, humming softly to himself, he whispered: