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Your chief was murdered to get him out of the way, because it was known you could be bribed. I came here to get you, and I'll get all the crowd, if it kills half the town in the fight." With one quick movement he seized his man by the collar. "Here, Bill, hustle him out," he said to Christler. "We've got no time to waste."
"I'm going to round up all this gang to-day if it kills you to keep on the trail." Christler still sat staring. "By the Lord Harry!" he said. "By the Lord but, Van, I didn't come home to rest. I've got Barger going, somewhere, shot to a sieve. But he's some disappeared. If that ain't just my luck! I'm goin' to git him though, you bet!
Two miles out the sheriff, in a borrowed car, grimly seated at the driver's side, came bearing down upon them. The cars were halted long enough for the sheriff to take his place with Searle, and then they hastened on. Christler had instantly seen that Van was wounded. He as quickly realized that to rush Van to town and medical attendance was the only possible plan. He merely said, "You're hurt."
"You can use the reward, I guess." "Good God, I don't want that kind of money!" Van exclaimed. "Who got you, Matt who got you?" "Sheriff," said the convict dispassionately. "Good man, Christler and a pretty good shot but I got away with his lead." He slumped again, like a waxen thing on melting props, deprived of all support. Van plunged out to the water bench, with its bucket, near the door.
"You'd break out of your grave," Van told him, "if you knew what's going on." Christler looked dubious, draining at his glass. "Well, I dunno. It 'ud have to be something pretty rich." "Bill," said Van, "you're going to stand in and work with me as you haven't worked for a year. It's going to be worth it.
Lord! my pride my profession pride not to mention that little old reward! I admit I want that money, Van. I reckon I've pretty near " "Yes, you've earned it," Van interrupted. "I'm going to see that you get it. Bill, but first you get busy with me." "You'll see that I get " Christler put the cracker in his mouth. "Don't talk to a genuine friend like that. I'm tired already." "Are you?" said Van.
Opal McCoppet, and one Searle Bostwick, of New York, have stolen my claim by corrupting Lawrence for twenty thousand dollars, running a false reservation line, and maybe putting Culver out of the way because he was square in his business." Christler paused in the act of biting his cracker. "What!" "There's going to be something doing, Bill," Van added, leaning forward on the table.
Christler, the sheriff, arrived a little after eight, bringing in a wounded deputy. Barger had shot him in the thigh. Van did not wait for his man to eat, but urged him home to his bachelor shack and sat him down to a drink of something strong, with a cracker to munch for a meal. Christler was tired.
"Let's see. Barger is here in camp." Up shot the sheriff as if from the force of a blast. "What!" he shrilled. "Barger! Van, I'll " Van grinned. "Don't forget you're tired, Bill. Matt won't get away." "Good Lord, boy tell me where's he at!" cried Christler, dancing on the floor as he strapped his guns upon him. "Me a-thinkin' I had shot him up and all this time "
Van tried to smile. "Slightly punctured." He was rapidly losing strength. Christler thought to divert him. He shouted above the purring of the car. "Found Matt all right. I'm goin' to take him back to the State authorities in that convict suit that's hangin' 'round the store." Van was instantly aroused. "No you don't Bill! No you don't! I've got use for those stripes myself.
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