"Stand up, Sheriff!" snapped McCullough. He searched the sullen prisoner and found two rolls of bills. Going quickly over them he removed and grouped certain of them, and then compared them with his list, "There's five here that tally with th' bank's numbers," he said, looking up. "Where'd you get 'em?"
"Won 'em at faro-bank."
"Won five five-hundred-dollar bills at faro, when everybody knows yo're a two-bit gambler?" shouted the trail-boss. "I'm no blame fool! Don't you forget what I said about th' lynchin', Corwin. I'm all that stands between you an' it. Where'd you get 'em? Like Trask said?"
Corwin's hunted look flashed despairingly around the group. "No," he said. "Kane gave 'em to me, to get changed into smaller bills!"
"Reckon Kane must 'a' robbed that bank all by hisself," sneered McCullough. "I never knowed he had diamond drills an' could bust safes. Didn't you go along to protect an' keep an eye on that eastern safe-blower that Kane had come to do th' job? Pronto! Didn't you?"
"I had to," growled Corwin, in a voice so low that the answer was lost to all but the man to whom he was talking.
McCullough gave him a contemptuous shove and wheeled to question Roberts. "Get up," he ordered, and searched the rustler trail-boss. "By Judas!" he exclaimed when he saw the size of the roll. "You coyotes was makin' money fast! There's near three thousand here! Let's see how they compare with my list." In a few moments he nodded. "How'd you get these five-hundred-dollar bills? Kane give 'em to you, too?"
"No, Kane didn't give 'em to me!" snapped Roberts in angry contempt. "I earned 'em as my share of th' bank robbery, along with Corwin, th' white-livered snake! Kane didn't give 'em to either of us." He glared at the one-time sheriff. "I'm sayin' plain that if I ever get a chance I'm aimin' to shoot this skunk, along with Trask. You hear me?"
"If you ain't got a gun, hunt me up an' I'll lend you one," offered Idaho.
"Shut up!" snapped McCullough, glaring at the puncher. Whirling he pushed Roberts away. "It'll be a long time before you shoot anybody or anythin'. Now, then," he said, stepping up in front of Kane: "Get up!"
Kane arose slowly, his eyes burning with rage. He submitted to the exploring fingers of the trail-boss and maintained a contemptuous silence as his shirt was whipped up out of his trousers and the two money belts removed from around his waist.
McCullough opened the belts and his eyes at the same time. Neatly folded bunches of greenbacks followed each other in swift succession from the pockets of the belts and, scattering as they were tossed into a pile, made quite an imposing sight. Staring eyes regarded them and more than one observer's mouth gaped widely.
"Seven thousand," announced McCullough, reaching for another handful. "I'm sayin' you wasn't leavin' nothin' behind." He looked up again after a moment. "Eighteen thousand five hundred," he growled and picked up another handful. "Holy mavericks!" he breathed as the last bill was counted and placed on the new pile. "Forty-nine thousand eight hundred and seventy! You was takin' chances, totin' all that with this gang of thieves! Fifty thousand dollars, U. S.!"
Handing his written list to Quayle, he selected the five-hundred-dollar bills and called off the numbers laboriously, Quayle as laboriously hunting through the list. It took considerable time before they were checked off and put to one side, and then he looked up.
"There's still a-plenty of them bills missin'," he announced. "Where did they get to?"
Hopalong stepped forward and drew a roll from his pocket. "Here's what I found on Sandy Woods when he died in this camp," he said, offering it to the astonished trail-boss.
McCullough took it, opened and counted it and called the numbers off to the excited holder of the list.
"They're all on th' list—th' Lord be praised!" said Quayle.
"Where'd Sandy Woods come in this?" demanded McCullough, looking around from face to face.
Roberts sneered. "Huh! He was th' man that took th' safe-blower out of th' country. He didn't have no hand in th' bank job. I'm glad th' skunk died, an' I'm glad it was me that planned his finish. He shore must 'a' held up that feller. How much is there, in th' bank's bills?"
"Five thousand," answered the trail-boss.
"He got it all, cuss him!" snorted Roberts.
McCullough looked at Kane. "I never hoped to meet you like this," he said. "I ain't goin' to ask you no questions—you can talk in court, an' explain how you came to have so many of th' registered bills; an' there's other little things you can tell about, if somebody don't tell it all first." He turned to Hopalong. "We'll be takin' these fellers to th' ranch now."
"Better take th' reward money out of that bundle" replied Hopalong, nodding at the money in the hands of the trail-boss. "We've dealt 'em like you asked, an' gave you th' cards you want. Our part is finished."
McCullough looked from him to the prisoners and then at his friends. "How can I hand it to you?" he asked. "Where's Nelson? He's settin' in this."
"He'll show up after th' money's paid," said Red innocently as he arose.
McCullough hesitated and looked around again. As he did so Idaho carelessly walked over to Red, smoothing out a cigarette paper, and took hold of a paper tag hanging out of Red's pocket and pulled it. Carelessly rolling a cigarette he shoved the tobacco sack back where he had found it, but he did not leave Red's side. Blowing a lungful of smoke into the air he smiled at McCullough.
"Shucks, Mac," he said. "You shouldn't ought to have no trouble findin' them rewards in that unholy wad. An' mebby you could find Nelson's missin' eleven hundred on Trask, if you looked real hard. I like a man that goes through with his play."
"I'm not lookin' for no eleven hundred at all!" snapped McCullough. "An' I ain't shore that they've earned th' reward, burnin' that buildin' like they did! They let these fellers get away, first!"
"I just handed you th' money I found on Sandy Woods," said Hopalong. "That's like givin' it to you to pay us with. Heck! You act like you hated to make good Twitchell's bargain. Well, of course, you don't have to take this bunch, nor th' money, neither; but I'm sayin' they don't go separate. Suits us, Mac—we'll keep th' whole show—money an' all, if you say so."
"Fine chance you got!" retorted the trail-boss, bridling. "They're here—an' I'm takin' 'em, with th' money."
"There ain't nobody takin' nothin'," rejoined Hopalong calmly, "until th' bargain's finished. Don't rile Johnny, off there in th' brush; he's plumb touchy." His drawling voice changed swiftly. "Come on—a bargain's a bargain. Five thousand, now!"
"Mac!" said Quayle's accusing voice.
The trail-boss looked at the money in his hand and slowly counted out the reward amount, careful not to include any of the registered bills. "Here," he said, handing them to Hopalong. "You give us a hand gettin' 'em to th' ranch?"
"If three of us could catch 'em, an' bring 'em here," said Hopalong, coldly, "I reckon you got enough help to take 'em th' rest of th' way—if you steer clear of town."
"Don't worry, Mac," said Idaho, cheerfully. "I'll go along with you."
The trail-boss growled in his throat and began, with Lukins, Waffles, and Quayle, to get the prisoners on the horses. This soon was accomplished and he headed them south, Lukins on the other side, Quayle and Waffles and Idaho bringing up the rear.
"Better come to town for a celebration," called the proprietor, disappointment in his voice. "Ye can leave at dawn."
Johnny shook his head. "There's a celebration waitin' at th' ranch," he shouted, and turned to find his two companions mounted and his black horse waiting impatiently for him. Mounting, he wheeled to face northward, but checked the horse and turned to look back in answer to a faint hail from Idaho, and grinned at the insulting gesture of the distant puncher.