over the
examination of Roush.

They wrung from him, a scrap at a time, the story Yankie had told his
confederates at the camp-fire. A statement of the facts was drawn up
and signed by Roush under protest. It was witnessed by the four men
present.

Devil Dave was locked up and Dumont brought back to the office of the
sheriff. Taken by surprise at the new form of the questionnaire, already
broken in spirit and therefore eager to conciliate these powerful
citizens, the rustler at once corroborated the story of Roush. He, too,
signed a statement drawn up by Prince.

"Just shows, doggone it, how a man can be too blamed sure," commented
Wrayburn. "I'd 'a' bet my life Go-Get-'Em Jim killed Webb. But he
didn't. It's plain enough now. After his rookus with the old man, Yankie
must have got a seventy-three an' waited in the chaparral. It just
happened he was lyin' hid close to where we met Clanton. It beats the
Dutch."

"An' if Jim hadn't escaped he'd have been hanged for killin' Webb."

"That's right, sheriff. On my testimony, too. Say, let me go to the
Governor with these papers an' git the pardon. I'd like to give it to the
boy myself, jest to show him there's no hard feelin's," urged Wrayburn.

"That's all right, Dad. I'm goin' to be right busy this next week, I
shouldn't wonder. I've got business up in the hills."

"If you're goin' on a round-up, I hope you make a good gather, Prince,"
said Snaith, smiling.

Not in the history of Washington County had there been another such a
round-up as this one of which Sheriff Prince was the boss. He made his
plans swiftly and thoroughly. His posses were to sweep the country
between Saco de Oro Creek and Caballero Canon. Every gap was to be
stopped, every exit guarded. Dumont, much against his will, rode beside
the sheriff as guide. Goodheart had charge of the first party that went
out. His duty was to swing round and close the gulches to the north. Here
he would wait until the hunted men were driven into the trap he had set.
Old Reb, with a second posse, started next morning for the head-waters
of Seven-Mile Creek. An hour later the sheriff himself took the road. He
left town sooner than he had intended because Roush had escaped during
the night and was probably on his way into the hills to warn the
rustlers.

Get them in a talkative mood and old-timers who took part in it will
still tell the story of that man-drive in the mountains. Riders combed
the draws and the buttes,