In  the  firelight  Snake  Anson's  face  looked  lean  and
serpent-like,  his  eyes  glittered,  and  his  long  neck  and  all
of  his  long  length  carried  out  the  analogy  of  his  name.
"Snake,  what's  this  here  deal  with  Beasley?"  inquired
Jim.
"Reckon  you'll  Tarn  when  I  do,"  replied  the  leader.
He  appeared  tired  and  thoughtful.
"  'Ain't  we  done  away  with  enough  of  them  poor  greaser
herders — for  no  thin'?"  queried  the  youngest  of  the  gang,
a  boy  in  years,  whose  hard,  bitter  lips  and  hungry  eyes
somehow  set  him  apart  from  his  comrades.
"You're  dead  right,  Burt — an'  that's  my  stand,"  re-
plied the  man  who  had  sent  Moze  out.
"Snake,  snow  '11  be  fly  in'  round  these  woods  before
long,"  said  Jim  Wilson.  "Are  we  goin'  to  winter  down
in  the  Tonto  Basin  or  over  on  the  Gila?"

"Reckon  we'll  do  some  tall  ridin*  before  we  strike
south,"  replied  Snake,  gruffly.
At  this  juncture  Moze  returned.
"Boss,  I  heerd  a  hoss  comin'  up  the  trail,"  he  said.
Snake  rose  and  stood  at  the  door,  listening.  Outside
the  wind  moaned  fitfully  and  scattering  raindrops  pat-
tered upon  the  cabin.
"A-huh!"  exclaimed  Snake,  in  relief.
Silence  ensued  then  for  a  moment,  at  the  end  of  which
interval  Dale  heard  a  rapid  clip-clop  on  the  rocky  trail
outside.  The  men  below  shuffled  uneasily,  but  none  of
them  spoke.  The  fire  cracked  cheerily.  Snake  Anson
stepped  back  from  before  the  door  with  an  action  that
Expressed  both  doubt  and  caution.
The  trotting  horse  had  halted  out  there  somewhere.
"Ho  there,  inside!"  called  a  voice  from  the  darkness.
"Ho  yourself!"  replied  Anson.
"That  you,  Snake?"  quickly  followed  the  query.
5


THE  MAN  OF   THE  FOREST

'Reckon  so,"  returned  Anson,  showing  himself.
