When they went to their room--a room in which there was no bed and
they had to roll down their blankets on the floor--Dan opened the
window and commenced to whistle one of his own wild tunes. It seemed
to Calder that there was a break in that music here and there, and a
few notes grouped together like a call. In a moment a shadowy figure
leaped through the window, and Black Bart landed on the floor with
soft padding feet.
Recovering from his start Calder cursed softly.
"What's the main idea?" he asked.
Dan made a signal for a lower tone.
"There ain't no idea," he answered, "but these Daniels people--do you
know anything about them?"
"No. Why?"
"They interest me, that's all."
"Anything wrong?"
"I guess not."
"Why did you whistle for this infernal wolf? It makes me nervous to
have him around. Get out, Bart."
The wolf turned a languid eye upon the marshal.
"Let him be," said Dan. "I don't feel no ways nacheral without havin'
Bart around."
The marshal made no farther objections, and having rolled himself in
his blankets was almost immediately asleep and breathing heavily. The
moment Dan heard his companion draw breath with a telltale regularity,
he sat up again in his blankets.
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