reached out and gripped the man's hand: "I'm goin' after Purdy
now," he said quietly. "But first, I'll help you with him."

It was but the work of a few moments to raise the body of Long Bill to
the bench by means of a rope, carry it to a nearby mud crack, drop it in
and cave a ton of mud onto it. As they raised him from the coulee
Grimshaw had removed his guns: "Better take one of these along," he
cautioned, "Purdy packs two--one inside his shirt--an' the dirty hound
carries a squeezer in his pocket--don't play him fer dead till he's damn
good an' dead, or he'll git you. Better let me an' Bill go
along--there's four of 'em--we'll leave Purdy fer you--he's the only one
that kin shoot right good--but the others might edge in on you, at
that." The Texan shook his head as he examined the guns, carefully
testing them as to action and balance. He selected one, and handed the
other to Grimshaw.

"No, Cass, this is my job an' I'm goin' through with it."

The outlaw gave minute directions concerning the lay of the land, and a
few words of excellent advice. "I've got a little scoutin' around to do
first," he concluded, "but sometime along in the afternoon me an' Bill
will drift around that way to see how you're gittin' along. If they
should happen to git you don't worry--me an' Bill, we'll take care of
what's left of 'em."

The Texan swung into the saddle: "So long, Cass."

"So long, boy. Good luck to you--an' remember to watch Purdy's other
hand."

CHAPTER XXIII

CINNABAR JOE TELLS A STORY

Before Cinnabar Joe could fire again at the fleeing Purdy, his wife
reached the door of the cabin and knocked his gun-barrel up so that the
bullet sped harmlessly into the air. "Don't! Don't Joe!" she screamed,
"he said--there was others, an' they'd----"

"I don't care a damn what he said! If the others don't spill it, he
will. It ain't no use, an' I'd ruther git it over with."

Jennie noticed the dull hopelessness of the tone and her very soul
seemed to die within her. "Oh, what is it, Joe?" she faltered, "what's
Purdy got on you? What you gone an' done? Tell me, Joe!" The man laid
the six-gun on the table and faced her with set lips. "Wait!" she cried
before he could speak, "he said they was a woman--in the coulee. They'll
be plenty of time to tell me, after you've got her here. Hurry! He said
she'd rode a long ways. Chances is she ain't had nothin' to eat all day.
An' while you're gone I'll git things fixed for her."