tors I know."

In a prolonged silence Mr. Gwinne rumpled his beard and refilled his
pipe.

"The two Garfield men and the other three did not seem to be agreeing
very well," he said at last. "Lull--he's the one who arrested you--he
went back to Garfield last night. Couldn't sleep, he said, and they'd
be wanting to know in Garfield. The other one, See, the least one, he
was round here soon this morning wanting to talk it up with you. He
was real feverish about the quarantine."

Johnny cocked his head impishly and looked sidelong at the jailer.

"Just what was the big idea for sending one man to arrest me?"

"They didn't say."

"And why were they all crosswise with each other, like jackstraws?"

"They didn't tell me that either."

"You're allowed three guesses."

Gwinne puffed unhurriedly at his pipe, and after some meditation
delivered himself of a leisurely statement between puffs.

"About a year ago, near as I can remember, this man Caney--Big Ed
Caney--deputy sheriff in Dona Ana--did you know that? Thought not.
Well, he went out beyond Hatch with a warrant for a fellow. He found
another man--old Mexican sheep herder--cut down on him with a rifle
and ordered him to throw 'em up. The old Mexican was scared or else he
remembered something, I don't know which; he was perfectly innocent of
this particular charge, whatever it was; they caught the other man
later. Anyhow the old gentleman made a dash for his gun--it was
leaning up against a tree not far away. And Caney killed him."

"So you think maybe Caney wanted to start something. Ambush, maybe? So
I'd go after my gun?"

"I don't know anything about what Caney wanted to do or didn't want to
do. All I know is--he didn't."

"And the Garfield boys wouldn't stand for it?" persisted Johnny.

"Lull and Charlie See won't stand for any crooked work--if it's them
you mean. Lull was the only Garfield man. Charlie See is from Dona
Ana, where they grow good and bad, same as they do here."

"Yes. I see. I know Jody and Toad Hales, myself. I met Lull and See
yesterday evenin', just out of Garfield. Say, Mr. Gwinne, could you
rustle me a razor?"

"I can too. Anything else on your mind?"

"Why, no. Only I wish I knew where the John Cross outfit is holding
forth, and when they are likely to get word about me being in a tight.
They may hear to-day, and it may be a week."

"They're up beyond Hermosa, somewhere at the head of Cuchillo Creek.
And I shouldn't much wonder