spurred, standing in the center of the room. Softly Cummings approached
the picture, his finger found the spring through the canvas and,
pressing it hard, the frame swung slowly forward as if reluctant to give
up its precious charge.

Rapidly taking one bag after another from the cavity Cummings passed
them to Moriarity, who placed them in the bags prepared for them.

The Doctor and Scip had gone outside and now brought the four horses
nearer the door. This they did that they might have as little to do with
the robbery as possible, and they had so managed it that Jim and Dan had
done the actual theft.

Moriarity had brought two of the bags which the Doctor had placed on his
own and Scip's horse and had gone back for the third, when the door from
the inner hall opened, and, his tangled hair hanging in mats over his
eyes, his clothing disarranged, his face purple with rage and a revolver
in each hand, Swanson appeared before the surprised robbers.

The dim light of the fire showed the picture open, and befogged as his
brain was by the whisky, he realized he was being robbed, and with a
roar like a mad bull he sprang upon Cummings.

Swift as a flash Cummings' fist, sent forward with all the force of his
powerful frame, struck the ranchman under the ear, and tossing his arms
above his head he fell like a dead man on the floor.

The sound of many feet hurrying to the scene was heard and, leaving the
bag which he was about to take when Swanson sprang on him, Cummings
bolted through the door, vaulted on his horse and followed closely by