The Dillon tribune. [volume] (Dillon, Mont.) 1881-1941, 1886-11-12
By BRET HARTE.

til he reached tho bench, the wall of red rocl
and the crumbled and dismantled furnace. 1
was as he had left it that morning; there wa
no trace of recent human visitation. Revolver
in hand, Concho examined every cave, gull,
and recess, peered behind trees, penetrate
copses Of buckeye and manzanita, and listened
There was no sound hut tho faint soughins
of the wind over the pines below him. For 6
while he paced backward and forward with
vague sense of being sentinel, hut his mer
curial nature soon rebeled against this mo
notony, and soon the fatigues of the day began
to tell upon him. Recourse to his whisky
flask only made him the brewster, until al
last he was faiu to lie down and roll himself
up tightly in his blanket The next n,o,ncn,
he was sound asleep.
His horse neighed twice from the summit
hut Concho heard him not. Then the brush
cracked on the ledge above him, n small frag-
E1ent Of rock rolled near his feet, but he stirred
not. And then two black figures were out
lined on tho crags beyond.
"St-t-t!" whispered voice. "There is one
lying beside the furnace" The speech was
Spanish, but the voice was Wiles'.
Tue other figure crept cautiously to the
ed"e Of tho crag aud looked over. ut is
'oncho, the imbecilc, said Pedro, contemptu-
ous.y.
"Iut If he should not be alone, or if he
should waken?"
~ will watch and wait Go you and afflx
the notifications
Wiles disappeared. Pedro began to creep
down the face of the rocky ledge, supporting
himself by cllemisal and brushwood.
The next moment Pedro stood beside tho
unconscious man. Then he looked cautiously
around. The figure of his companion was
lost in the shadow OF the rocks above; only a
slight cracklc of brush betrayed his where
abouts. Suddenly Pedro flung his serape
over the sleeper's head, and then threw his
powerful frame and tremendous weight full
upon Concho's upturned face, while his strong
arms clasped the blanket pinioned limbs of
his victim. There was u momentary up
heaval, a spasm and struggle; but the
tightly rolled blanket chung to the unfortu.
nate nlcn like cerements.
There was no noise, no outcry, no sound Of
struggle There was nothing to be seen but
the peaceful, PROSTATE figures of the two men
darkly outlined ON the ledge. They might
have tecn sleeping in each others arms In
the black silence the stealthy tread of Wiles
In the bush above was distinctly audible.
Gradually the struggles grew fainter. Then
whisper from tho crags:
II can't see you. What are you doingg"
"Watching!"
"Sleeps he!"
"He slecps!"
"Soundlya"
"Soundly."
"After the manner Of the deadr'
"After the fashion Of the dead!"
The last tremor had ceased. Pedro rose as
Wiles descended.
"All is ready" said Wiles; "you arc wit
rsss of my placing tho notifications"
u am q witnesa'
"But of this onel" pointing to Concto.
sShall we leave him hcrc?"
"A drunken imbecile-why nots'
Wiles turned his left eye on tho speaker.
They CHANGED to be standing nearly in the
same attitude they had stood the preceding
night. Pedro uttered a cry and an impreca-
ton, "Carramba! Take your devils ego from
me! What sec you? Eh-whatw
"Nothing, good Pedro" said Wilcs, turning
his blank right check to Pedro Tho in
furiated and half frightened cx-va1uero re-
turned the long knife he had half drawn from,
its sheath, and growled surlily: