ut you acted--as if I was a man!"

"We're all in a hole--it's life," said Van, continuing his attentions
to the wounds. "I don't want a cent of blood-money, Matt, if I have to
starve on the desert. Now lie where you are, and maybe go to sleep.
You won't be disturbed here till morning."

"By mornin'--all hell can't--disturb me," Barger told him painfully,
with something like a ghastly smile upon his lips. "I'm goin'--there
to see."

He lapsed off again into coma. Van feared the man was dead. But
having lived a stubborn life, Barger relinquished his hold unwillingly,
despite his having ceased at last to care.

For nearly an hour Van worked above him, on the ground. Then the man
not only aroused as before, but sat up, propped on his arm.

"God, I had to--wake!" he said. "I was sure--forgettin' to tell you."

Van thought the fellow's mind was wandering.

"Lie down, Matt, lie down," he answered. "Try to take it easy."

"Too late--fer me to take--anything easy," replied the outlaw, speaking
with a stronger voice than heretofore. "Gimme a drink of whisky."

Van gave him the drink and he tossed it off at a draught.

"I said to myself I'd be--hanged if I'd tell you, that--day you cheated
the quicksand," Barger imparted jerkily, "but you've got--a--right to
know. McCoppet and that--pal of his give Lawrence twenty
thousand--dollars, cash, to queer you on the--reservation line and run
you off your claim."

Van scrutinized the sunken face and glittering eyes with the closest
attention.

"What's that?" he said. "Bought Lawrence to fake out the reservation
line? Who told you, Matt? Who told you that?"

The convict seemed to gain in strength. He was making a terrible
effort to finish all he had to impart.

"Trimmer put me--on to all the game. It was him that told me--you was
goin' through, when I--pretty near got you, in the pass."

Van's eyes took on a deep intensity.

"Trimmer? Trimmer?"

"Larry Trimmer--Pine-tree Trimmer," explained the convict impatiently.
"McCoppet--wanted you detained, the day they--jumped your claim.
Lawrence--he run the line out crooked fer--twenty thousand bucks.
Culver was put away by Cayuse, mebbe because--he was square--Larry
wasn't sure---- I guess--that's all, but it ought to--help you some."

He dropped himself down and languidly closed his eyes.

"Good heavens, man," said Van, still staring, "are you sure of what
you're saying?"

There was no response for a time