“Jack Rance is there!  If he was to see you here—­he’s that jealous I’d be afraid—­” She checked her words and quickly put her ear close to the door, the voices outside having become louder and more distinct.  Presently she spun round on her heel and announced excitedly:  “Ashby’s there, too!” And again she put her ear to the door.

“Ashby!” The exclamation fell from Johnson’s lips before he was aware of it.  It was impossible to deceive himself any longer—­the posse had tracked him!

“We want to come in, Girl!” suddenly rang out from the well-known voice of Nick.

“But you can’t come in!” shouted back the Girl above the noise of the storm; then, taking advantage of a particularly loud howl of the blast, she turned to Johnson and inquired:  “What will I say?  What reason will I give?”

Serious as was Johnson’s predicament, he could not suppress a smile.  In a surprisedly calm voice he told her to say that she had gone to bed.

The Girl’s eyes flooded with admiration.

“Why, o’ course—­that’s it,” she said, and turned back to the door and called through it:  “I’ve gone to bed, Nick!  I’m in bed now!”

The barkeeper’s answer was lost in another loud howl of the blast.  Soon afterwards, however, the Girl made out that Nick was endeavouring to convey to her a warning of some kind.

“You say you’ve come to warn me?” she cried.

“Yes, Ramerrez . . .!”

“What?  Say that again?”

“Ramerrez is on the trail—­”

“Ramerrez’s on the trail!” repeated the Girl in tones of alarm; and not waiting to hear further she motioned to Johnson to conceal himself behind the curtains of the bed, muttering the while: 

“I got to let ’em in—­I can’t keep ’em out there on such a night . . .”  He had barely reached his place of concealment when the Girl slid back the bolts and bade the boys to come in.

Headed by Rance, the men quickly filed in and deposited their lanterns on the floor.  It was evident that they had found the storm most severe, for their boots were soaked through and their heavy buffalo overcoats, caps and ear-muffs were covered with snow, which all, save Rance, proceeded to remove by shaking their shoulders and stamping their feet.  The latter, however, calmly took off his gloves, pulled out a beautifully-creased handkerchief from his pocket, and began slowly to flick off the snow from his elegant mink overcoat before hanging it carefully upon a peg on the wall.  After that he went over to the table and warmed his hands over the lighted candle there.  Meanwhile, Sonora, his nose, as well as his hands which with difficulty he removed from his heavy fur mittens, showing red and swollen from the effects of the biting cold, had gone over to the fire, where he ejaculated: 

“Ouf, I’m cold!  Glad you’re safe, Girl!”

“Yes, Girl, The Polka’s had a narrow squeak,” observed Nick, stamping his feet which, as well as his legs, were wrapped with pieces of blankets for added warmth.