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Striking blindly right and left, the outlaw forced a way to the edge of the verandah, and leaping the rail, vanished into the night. He had not gone twenty yards when a guarded voice said: `This way, Don, to the right.'

Swerving, he almost staggered into Larry, waiting with the horses by the side of the trail. Gasping for breath, with every muscle in his body aching, and bleeding from several bullet grazes which now he had consciousness of, Green was but just able to reach the saddle. Consumed as he was with curiosity, Larry forbore to put questions, but led the way on the trail for Hatchett's at full speed. Only when they were clear of the ranch he spoke:

`Where do we go?'

`Leeming's first, they won't look for us there. We'll turn off through the dry gulch 'bout a couple o' miles along.'

The gulch referred to had a surface of bare rock and would show no tracks. Not until they were through this and riding rapidly across the open range did Larry break the silence. Then he said:

`I'd 'a' took a hand in the game my own self but I reckoned we'd want the hosses in a hurry mebbe. So the Old Man set a trap for yu, after all?'

`If he did he got catched in it himself,' Green told him. `I'm afraid he's cashed--no, I didn't shoot him, an' I dunno who did. I thought he'd double-crossed me but when I saw Tarman at the door...'

`Tarman there?' interrupted Larry. `Didn't I tell yu that feller West was up to some devilment, eh?'

`Well, it does look like yu mighta been right,' Green agreed, `though how Tarman could know I wanted Peterson beats me. I figure West didn't know what he was lettin' me in for.'

`O' course not, him bein' a little tin angel,' said the boy disgustedly, and there was a tinge of jealousy in his tone which made his friend smile.

`No, I guess this country ain't strong for angels,' he returned. `In fact...'

`Yu on'y know of one, an' I'll lay at the present moment she's thinkin' yu killed her daddy,' Larry finished, bitterly.

`She couldn't think nothin' else, seein' what she saw,' Green pointed out. `Yu gotta admit it was a pretty neat frame-up--disposes of me an' Simon if it comes off, an' leaves Tarman holdin' all the aces. He's got brains, that feller.'

`I'd like to make shore o' that,' was the other's grim reply. `Push along, yu blunderin' skate, yu ain't hobbled.'

The latter part of the remark was addressed to his mount, and was uncalled for, since the animal was already travelling at full stretch, and considering the mileage it had covered that day was doing remarkably well. Green slowed down a little.

`No need to bust the hosses,' he said. `They can't trail us in the dark an' they ain't a notion where we'd make for. Why do you reckon Tarman stains his hair an' beard?'

"Cause he's a double-dyed villain, like yu read of in the storybooks,' chuckled Larry.

`Yo're a double-ended jackass an' neither end's got any sense. If Leeming turns us down...'

`Shucks! I don't never ford a stream till I come to it,' said Larry confidently. `Job's got savvy, an' he ain't no more use for Tarman than we have.'

To which came no answer. Wounded and utterly played out, the outlaw remained in his saddle by a sheer effort of will. To him, in his weakened condition, the position appeared desperate. With her father dead, the girl would be absolutely in the power of Tarman and his gang, and the charge of having killed Simon, which he could see no way of disproving, would set the hand of every man in the territory against him. True, he was playing against a stacked deck, but who would believe him in the face of Tarman's statement, backed by the testimony of the bereaved girl? Leeming was his only hope; if the Frying Pan owner failed him, Tarman would win, but--and the outlaw's jaws clamped on a bitter oath--he would not enjoy his victory for long.

Daylight had not yet come when they reached their destinanion. Three owl-hoots at spaced intervals--a signal already agreed upon--aroused Leeming and brought him to the back door. Blanketing the window of the sitting-room, he lighted the lamp, and then uttered an oath of amazement when he saw Green collapse in a chair. Snatching open a cupboard he produced whisky and glasses, and then vanished into the kitchen, returning presently with food.

`Yu shore look as if yu been in a free-for-all scrap, Green,' he said. `Take a shot o' whisky an' some grub 'fore yu chatter.'

The visitors were glad enough to take the advice. The food and drink put new life into the outlaw, and when his wounds, which were but scratches, had been attended to, he was ready to tell his story. Rolling and lighting a cigarette, he looked steadily at his host.

`Might as well get the worst over at once,' he said. `Old Simon is dead, I guess, an' yu will be told I shot him. I didn't, but the evidence is good enough to hang me.'

`Simon dead?' cried Leeming, and now they saw a strange thing, for this man who over a trifle could fly into a violent passion, in a matter of deep concern now kept iron control of himself. `Tell me about it,' he said quietly.

Step by step the outlaw detailed what had happened since their last meeting, the visit to Big Rock, the fight in the gorge, the encountering of West, and its tragic outcome at the Y Z. Leeming did not interrupt, but sat with his eyes fixed on the narrator's face.

`An' Tarman's tale will be that he heard I was after Simon an' that he came along with a posse just too late to prevent me killin' him,' Green concluded.

`Yu think Tarman did it?' Job asked.

`Him or one of his men. O' course, it might have been meant for me but I wasn't nowhere near Simon. I on'y fired one shot before he went down, an' that was at the window.'

`Why did yu go to see Simon if yu'd given up the notion o' bumpin' him off?' came the next question.

The outlaw looked embarrassed. `Well, I reckon yu will think it a fool's fancy, but I wanted to hear him say he was sorry for what he done to Evesham,' he explained. `Bill was like a father to me, an' I figured there was an apology due to him an' aimed to collect it. A kind o' mad idea, but that's how I felt.'

The owner of the Frying Pan stood up. `I'm takin' yore word, Green,' he said. `It's a bad business an' we gotta think out what's best to be done. Yu boys better hole up here for a day or so--I reckon the Frying Pan won't be looked over for rustlers.' He smiled grimly, and continued. `We can hide out yore hosses, an' my boys can be trusted to keep their traps shut. We'll let Mister Tarman make the next move.'

The faith of the rancher braced the outlaw as nothing else could have done. Looking him square in the face, he said, `Yu are shore white, seh, an' I'd have to be worse than my reputation to double-cross yu. We'll get yore cattle back.'

`Damn the cattle,' exploded the other. `What I want is for that little girl at the Y Z to get her rights, an' not be made unhappy!'

He stamped off, motioning them to follow, and having shown them where they were to sleep, voiced a gruff good-night, and stamped back to his own room, heartily ashamed of himself for having betrayed emotion.

Chapter XX

THE Y Z ranch on the following afternoon presented its usual appearance save for the smashed window and bullet-scored walls of the room where the fight had taken place. Most of the outfit, with a large contingent from Hatchett's, were away with the marshal scouring the country for traces of the outlaw. In a bedroom lay Simon, grievously wounded, but likely to pull through. The bullet, entering his right side, had passed out again, miraculously missing the vital organs, and though painfully weak from the shock, there were no signs of fever. He was listening to Noreen's account of what had happened after he dropped, and his expression was troubled.