Rawlins rose to follow him; Hale alone hesitated.  The rapid occurrences of the last half hour gave him no time for reflection.  But he was by no means satisfied of the legality of the last act he had aided and abetted, although he admitted its rude justice, and felt he would have done so again.  A fear of this, and an instinct that he might be led into further complications if he continued to identify himself with Clinch and Rawlins; the fact that they had professedly abandoned their quest, and that it was really supplanted by the presence of an authorized party whom they had already come in conflict with—­all this urged him to remain behind.  On the other hand, the apparent desertion of his comrades at the last moment was opposed both to his sense of honor and the liking he had taken to them.  But he reflected that he had already shown his active partisanship, that he could be of little service to them at Wild Cat Station, and would be only increasing the distance from his home; and above all, an impatient longing for independent action finally decided him.  “I think I’ll stay here,” he said to Clinch, “unless you want me.”

Clinch cast a swift and meaning glance at the enemy, but looked approval.  “Keep your eyes skinned, and you’re good for a dozen of ’em,” he said sotto voce, and then turned to Stanner.  “I’m going to take this paper to Wild Cat.  If you want to communicate with me hereafter you know where I am to be found, unless”—­he smiled grimly—­“you’d like to see me outside for a few minutes before I go?”

“It is a matter that concerns the Stage Company, not me,” said Stanner, with an attempt to appear at his ease.

Hale accompanied Clinch and Rawlins through the kitchen to the stables.  The ostler, Dick, had already returned to the rescue of the snow-bound coach.

“I shouldn’t like to leave many men alone with that crowd,” said Clinch, pressing Hale’s hand; “and I wouldn’t have allowed your staying behind ef I didn’t know I could bet my pile on you.  Your offerin’ to stay just puts a clean finish on it.  Look yer, Hale, I didn’t cotton much to you at first; but ef you ever want a friend, call on Ringwood Clinch.”

“The same here, old man,” said Rawlins, extending his hand as he appeared from a hurried conference with the old woman at the woodshed, “and trust to Zeenie to give you a hint ef there’s anythin’ underhanded goin’ on.  So long.”

Half inclined to resent this implied suggestion of protection, yet half pleased at the idea of a confidence with the handsome girl he had seen, Hale returned to the room.  A whispered discussion among the party ceased on his entering, and an awkward silence followed, which Hale did not attempt to break as he quietly took his seat again by the fire.  He was presently confronted by Stanner, who with an affectation of easy familiarity crossed over to the hearth.

“The old Kernel’s d—­d peppery and high toned when he’s got a little more than his reg’lar three fingers o’ corn juice, eh?”