much different from the rest. Whereas, they had one and all a peculiarly unhealthy effect upon Andy, this newcomer was a cheery fellow, with an eye as clear as crystal, and color in his tanned cheeks. He had one of those long faces which invariably imply shrewdness, and he canted his head to one side while he watched Andy. "You're him that put the pinto in the corral, I guess?" he said.
Andy nodded.
There was no further mention of the troubles of that card game. Jeff and Joe and Larry were instantly busied about the kitchen and in arranging the table, while Scottie, after the manner of a guest, bustled about and accomplished little.
But the eye of Andrew, then and thereafter, whenever he was near the five, kept steadily upon the scar-faced man. Henry had tilted his chair back against the wall. The night had come on chill, with a rising wind that hummed through the cracks of the ill-built wall and tossed the flame in the throat of the chimney; Henry draped a coat like a cloak around his shoulders and buried his chin in his hands, separated from the others by a vast gulf. Presently Scottie was sitting at the table. The others were gathered around him in expectant attitudes. One or two unavoidable side glances flashed across at Andy, and he knew that he was not wanted, but he was too much fascinated by this strange society to leave.
Red-headed Jeff, his burly face twisting with anxiety, asked: "And did you see her, man?"
"Sure did I," nodded Scottie. "She's doin'. fine. Nothin' to be asked better. She had some messages to send you, lad." He smiled at Jeff, who sighed.
Then he turned to Larry. "I sent the money," he said, and the skull-faced man nodded.
