the man's greed. And greed would be a factor
only if Purdy knew of the reward. The fact that Long Bill had ridden
one of Purdy's horses added strength to the assumption that they had
been in touch. "A thousan' dollars is too much money for Purdy to pass
up," muttered the Texan as his eyes swept the dead plain. "He knows he'd
have to deliver her safe an' unharmed, an' the chances are he'd figure
he could make Win shell out a good bit more'n the thousan'. Anyhow, if
Long Bill ain't got back across the river yet, I've got two chances of
locatin' her instead of one."

The Texan's attention riveted upon a spot less than a quarter of a mile
away. Above the edge of a low cutbank, that formed the wall of a shallow
coulee a thin curl of smoke rose and was immediately dispersed. So
fleeting was the glimpse that he was not sure his eyes had not played
him false. Long and intently he stared at the spot--yes, there it was
again,--a gossamer wraith, so illusive as to be scarcely distinguishable
from the blue haze of early dawn. Easing his horse from the ridge, he
worked him toward the spot, being careful to keep within the shelter of
a coulee that slanted diagonally into the one from which the smoke rose.
A hundred yards from his objective he dismounted, removed his spurs, and
crawled stealthily toward the rim of the cutbank. When within arm's
reach of the edge he drew his gun, and removing his hat, wriggled
forward until he could thrust his face into a tuft of bunch grass that
projected over the edge.

Not ten feet below him Long Bill Kearney squatted beside a tiny fire
and toasted a strip of bacon upon the point of a long knife. Long Bill
was alone. A short distance away a cayuse stood saddled and bridled.
Noiselessly the Texan got to his feet and stood looking down at the man
by the fire. The man did not move. Grease dripped from the bacon and
little tongues of red flame curled upward, licking at the strip on the
knife. The strip curled and shrivelled, and slipping from the point,
dropped into the fire. Cursing and grumbling, the man fished it out with
the knife, and removing the clinging ashes upon his sleeve, conveyed it
to his mouth with his fingers. From a greasy paper beside him he drew
another strip and affixed it on the point of the knife. As he thrust it
toward the fire he paused, and glanced uneasily toward the cayuse which
dozed with drooping head and one rear foot resting upon the toe.
Apparently satisfied, he resumed