He 's plumb anxious to protect that shack, now ain't he?"
Lefty Dawson came sauntering up. "Wonder if Carter 'll let us hold out in his store?"
"He 'll pay you to," laughed Bill.
"It 's loop-holed. Been so since th' last raid," explained Lefty. "An' it 's chock full of grub," he grinned.
They heard Dad's voice around the corner. "Just like last time," he was saying. "We oughta put four men in Dick's 'dobe acrost th' street. Then we 'd have a strategy position. You see—oh, hullo," he said as he rounded the corner ahead of George Bruce. "Who 's goin' on picket duty?" he demanded.
Under the blazing sun a yellow dog wandered aimlessly down the deserted street, his main interest in life centered on his skin, which he frequently sat down to chew. During the brief respites he lounged in the doors of deserted buildings, frequently exploring the quiet interiors for food. Emerging from the "hotel" he looked
