'n on the level since. I figgered I'd payed fer that long
ago. But, if Purdy got away, he'll tip me off. It's goin' to be hard as
hell on her." He nodded toward his wife, who stood at some distance
talking earnestly with Old Bat.

Grimshaw leaned over and laid a hand on the man's shoulder: "Put up yer
horse, boy," he said; "you've got a nice little outfit started here--you
an' her. Stay right with it--an' stay on the level. Forgit anything that
might of happened a long time ago. It's the things you do now, an' what
yer goin' to do that counts. Tex didn't git Purdy--but they was five
more of us there to back up his play. We was all of us more or less
handy with our guns. An' between the whole of us--we managed to git him.
Purdy's dead, Cinnabar--dead as Julius Caesar, an' all his pals is
dead--an' whatever he had on you died with him."

"There comes Tex, now!" cried Cinnabar, pointing to two riders who
appeared outlined for a moment against the opposite valley rim, before
beginning the descent of the slope. "He's ridin' McWhorter's blue roan.
But who's that with him? Why--it's McWhorter's girl! But, what horse has
she got? She busted out of here two or three hours ago ridin' her bay
mare!"

As the two riders approached across the narrow valley, Grimshaw fingered
his stubby beard: "There's a pair to draw to," he muttered.

"Do you mean----?"

"Yes--that's just what I mean! But, they rode a damn sight faster than
what I would, at that."

"Hey, Bat! You old reprobate!" called the Texan, as his horse ascended
the bank from the creek, "take Cinnabar's cayuse an' beat it for Wolf
River! An' you make him scratch gravel! Now's the chance to do me a good
turn on account of them four-bits I give you--way back in Las
Vegas--remember?"

The old half-breed grinned broadly: "_Oui_, A'm 'member dat fo'-bit."
Reaching into his shirt he withdrew a half-dollar suspended from his
neck by a greasy thong of rawhide. "See, A'm ain' fergit. Dat fo'-bit
she giv' me chanc' to pay heem back 'bout seex-seven hondre tam'. W'at
you wan' in Wo'f Reevaire? Nodder pilgrim to hang, eh, _bien_?"

Joining in the laugh that followed the old half-breed's sally, the Texan
rode to his side and handed him some yellow bills. "You hit the trail
now--an' hit it hard. An' you show up here tomorrow morning with a
preacher an' a round yellow ring--savvy?"

"_Oui!_ De pries' an' de ring! _Voila!_" The old man looked straight
into the eyes of the girl who s