Queen."

Flatray hesitated. He could kill MacQueen probably, but almost certainly
he and West would pay the penalty. He reluctantly put his rifle down. "All
right. It's your call."

"Where's O'Connor?"

The sheriff looked straight at him. "Haven't you enough of us for one
gather?"

The outlaws were closing in on them cautiously.

"Not without that smart man hunter. Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"The devil you don't."

"We separated early this morning--thought it would give us a better chance
for a getaway." Jack gave a sudden exclamation of surprise. "So it was
Black MacQueen himself who posed as O'Connor down at Mesa."

"Guessed it right, my friend. And I'll tell you one thing: you've made the
mistake of your life butting into Dead Man's Cache. Your missing friend
O'Connor was due to hand in his checks to-day. Since you've taken his
place it will be you that crosses the divide, Mr. Sheriff. You'd better
tell where he is, for if we don't get Mr. Bucky it will be God help J.
Flatray."

The dapper little villain exuded a smug, complacent cruelty. It was no use
for the sheriff to remind himself that such things weren't done nowadays,
that the times of Geronimo and the Apache Kid were past forever. Black
MacQueen would go the limit in deviltry if he set his mind to it.

Yet Flatray answered easily, without any perceptible hesitation: "I reckon
I'll play my hand and let Bucky play his."

"Suits me if it does you. Jeff, collect that hardware. Now, while you boys
beat up the hills for O'Connor, I'll trail back to camp with these two
all-night picnickers."

CHAPTER IX

A BARGAIN

Melissy saw the two prisoners brought in, though she could not tell at
that distance who they were. Her watch told her that it was four-thirty.
She had slept scarcely at all during the night, but now she lay down on
the bed in her clothes.

The next she knew, Rosario was calling her to get up for breakfast. The
girl dressed and followed Rosario to the adjoining cabin. MacQueen was not
there, and Melissy ate alone. She was given to understand that she might
walk up and down in front of the houses for a few minutes after breakfast.
Naturally she made the most of the little liberty allowed her.

The old squaw Sit-in-the-Sun squatted in front of the last hut, her back
against the log wall. The man called Buck sat yawning on a rock a few
yards away. What struck Melissy as strange was that the squaw was figuring
on the back o