ing case, or
cattle rustling, or a sheep raid, and you were dealing with men all
around----"

The deputy-sheriff's jaw set grimly.

"I'd have the truth or he'd be in the hospital. I'm handicapped here
because there's no money in the treasury to work with. This county's as
big as a State and only two or three thousand in it, so we are about as
flush as grasshopper year in Kansas. The people are howling about
bringin' the murderer to justice at any cost, but if I'd ask 'em to dig
up a hundred apiece in cold cash for expense money they'd subside
quick."

"This is one of the few occasions when my past extravagances and habits
fill me with regret," replied the Dago Duke, with half-humorous
seriousness. "My remittance which has shrunk until it is barely
sufficient to sustain life, is already spoken for some months ahead by
certain low persons who consider themselves my creditors. Tinhorn Frank,
who drew to a straight and filled, is one of them, and Slivers, inside,
has a mortgage on my body and soul until an alleged indebtedness is
wiped out.

"Financially and socially I am nil; mentally and physically my faculties
are at your disposal. Do you happen to know anything in the lady's past
or present that she would not care to have exploited? Blackmail, yes? I
have no scruples. What do you know?"

The deputy gave the Dago Duke a curious look, but did not answer.

"There's something," guessed the other quickly.

"Yes, Dago, there is," said Dan Treu finally with awkward hesitation.
"It's something so fierce that I hate to tell it even to you for fear
there might be some mistake. It's hard to believe it myself. It sounds
so preposterous that I'd be laughed at if I told it to anyone else in
Crowheart."

"I'll not laugh," said the Dago Duke. "It's the preposterous--the most
unlikely thing you can think of that is frequently true. I've studied
that woman, with my comparatively limited opportunities, until I know
her better than you think and far, far better than she thinks."

"Dago," the big deputy squirmed as he asked the question:

"Could you believe her a petty thief?"

"Without the least difficulty," replied the Dago Duke composedly.

"That she would rifle a man's pockets--roll him like any common woman of
the street?"

"If it was safe--quite, quite safe."

Slowly, even reluctantly, Dan Treu told the Dago Duke the story of the
Italians as he had heard it in their broken English from their own lips.
Through it all