"Well wots he?" demanded Dopey Charlie. "He's athief--he exclaimed he was--look inside his pockets--they'recrammed wid swag, an' he's a gun-man, too, or hewouldn't be packin' a gat. I guess he ain't got nothin'on me."

The unlitness hid the scarlet flush which mounted tothe boy's cheeks--so hot that he thought it must surelyglow purplely through the evening. He waited in dumb miseryfor Bridge to demand the proof of his guilt. Earlier inthe evening he had flaunted the evidence of his crime inthe faces of the six hobos; but now he suddenly felt agreat shame that his quite new found friend should believehim a home-breaker.

But Bridge did not ask for any substantiation of Char-lie's charges, he merely warned the two yeggmen thatthey would have to leave the boy alone and in themorning, when the storm had passed and daylight hadlessened the unknown danger which lurked far below-stairs,betake themselves upon their way.

"And while we're here together in this chamber you twomust sit over near the window," he concluded. "You'vetried to kill the boy once to-night; but you're not goingto try it again--I'm taking care of him now."