Alma waited at the door, holding it open a little way to admit Teresa when she should come stealing back. She glanced at the little clock on the tall bureau. Manuel would have arrived; Barrett would be running, faithful old Fred Grubb, impetuous Dan Gustin, hastening with him, to saddle and ride.
"There is no gun in the house!" Teresa reported, coming back breathlessly.
"Teresa!"
"Big and little—gone! In the hall where they hung—empty!"
"Teresa! What am I going to do?"
"Wait. Meester Barrett will be on the way by now."
"But they'll not wait. They'll come for me soon, and I haven't got a thing—my hands are empty—I haven't got a thing!"
"They call me! it will be to bring away the meat."
Teresa started to go, duty being slow in her serving mind to come forwafd with an excuse.
"Go on," Alma urged when she paused and turned as for permission. "Hurry back and tell me what they're saying."
Teresa was gone along time. Listening at the door, Alma heard her make several trips between kitchen and dining-room, heard Lawyer Thomson's gruff voice and Hal Nearing's cultured one; heard the sounds of laughter from the kitchen where the five thieves waited, and the movement of the sentries who guarded the patio beneath her very windows. Her heart fell in deeper hopelessness with every sound. Let Manuel come even
