p on my property when I was making an inspection of
it and made an attempt on my life; and if I hear a peep out of you,
from this time on, I'll go down and swear out a warrant."

"I didn't aim to kill you," defended the Widow, weakly. "I just tried to
shoot you in the leg."

"Well, you did it," returned Wiley, and, pushing; her aside, he limped
on down the trail. The Widow followed meekly, talking in low tones with
her daughter, and at last Virginia came up beside him.

"Take him right to our house," she said to Charley, "and I'll nurse him
until he gets well."

"No, you take me to the Holman house!" directed Wiley, obstinately. "I
guess we've got a house of our own."

"Well, suit yourself," she murmured, and fell back to the rear while
Wiley went hobbling on. At every step he jabbed the muzzle of the
shotgun vindictively into the ground, but as he reached the flat and met
a posse of citizens, he submitted to being carried on a door. The first
pain had passed and a deadly numbness seemed to take the place of its
bite; but as he moved his stiffened muscles, which were beginning to
ache and throb, he realized that he was badly hurt. With a leg like that
he could not drive out across the desert, seventy-four long miles to
Vegas; nor would he, on the other hand, find the best of accommodations
in the deserted house of his father. It had been a great home in its
day, but that day was past, and the water connections too, and somebody
must be handy to wait on him.

"Say," he said, turning to Death Valley Charley, "have you got a house
here in town? Well, take me to it and I'll pay you well, and for
anything else that you do."

"It won't cost you nothing," answered Charley quickly. "I used to know
your father."

"Well, you knew a good man then," replied Wiley grimly, but Death Valley
did not respond. The Widow Huff was listening behind; and besides, he
had his doubts.

"I'll run on ahead," said Charley noncommittally, and when Wiley arrived
a canvas cot was waiting for him, fully equipped except for the sheets.
Virginia came in later with a pair on her arm, and after a look at
Charley's greasy blankets Wiley allowed her to spread them on the bed.
Then, as Death Valley laid a grimy paw on his leg and began to pick out
the shot Wiley jerked away and asked Virginia impatiently if she didn't
have a little carbolic.

"Aw, he'll be all right," protested Charley cheerfully, as Virginia
pushed him aside; "them buckshot won