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Far above them Tenlow and Collie could see it creeping round a turn in the road. It disappeared in a dip, to reappear almost instantly, gliding swiftly down the long slant toward the valley. The staccato drumming of the exhaust echoed along the hillside. Overland's silk hat shone bravely in the sun. Beside the outlaw was the figure of a woman. Tenlow foresaw complications and muttered profanely.
Overland Red dropped and rolled to one side as the constable's gun boomed ineffectually. The tramp lay still. A clatter of empty stirrups, the swish of a horse galloping past, and silence. Slowly the constable approached Overland's prostrate figure. "Time's up for you!" he said, covering the tramp with his gun. "Water!" groaned Overland. "Water, eh? Well, crawl to it, you rat!"
How does the Saunders insec' wear his clothes?" "He's kind of lame in one arm and here he comes now. You can see for yourself. The one on that pinto." As Saunders rode past the two men, he turned in his saddle. Despite Overland's finery he recognized him at once. Overland's gaze never left the other's hands. "Mornin'," said Overland, nodding. "Ain't you grazin' pretty far this side of Gophertown?"
"Why didn't you, then?" asked Tenlow, restraining his anger; for Louise, in spite of herself, had smiled at Overland's somewhat picturesque resentment. "Why didn't you, then?" "Huh!" snorted Overland scornfully. "Do you suppose I'd start anything with a lady around? That ain't my style. You're a kid. You'll get hurt some day." Deputy Tenlow scowled.
Winthrop's silence rather stirred Overland's sensitive pride in his horsemanship. "'Course I broke and rode hundreds like her, down in Mex. But then I was paid for doin' it. It was my business then. Now, minin' and educatin' Collie is my business, and a busted neck wouldn't help any." Winthrop realized for the first time that Overland's supreme interest in life was Collie's welfare.
He shot from the hip, swinging his guns sideways. The stutter of Overland's automatics mingled with the roar of Saunders's heavy Colts. Sago, jumping clear, pulled his gun. Kennedy clutched his arm. Saunders slid from his chair, coughed horribly, and wilted to the floor. Overland backed toward the door, both guns leveled.
"Sure I would. You come first and the job comes second; but but I want to keep the job." Overland's keen blue eyes filled with instant emotion. "Oh, you go chase a snake up your sleeve. Do you think I'd bust your chances of makin' good here? Do you reckon I'd let a line fence stand between me and you, speakin' poetical?
And Louise was silent, and a bit happier. The little parcel that came to the hospital, directed to Collie, was from Overland. It was accompanied by a vividly worded note and a small, stained, and wrinkled glove, at once familiar. Overland's note explained the delay in forwarding the glove. "It's some mussed up," he wrote, "because I had it in my shirt when I was hit.
They had even ridden to town together and attended the little white church in the eucalyptus grove.... He thought of their ride homeward late that Sunday afternoon.... Once and once only had Overland's name been mentioned in the bunk-house. Saunders, discussing horses and riders in general, listened to Collie's account of Overland's escape from the deputy, Tenlow.
Faint dawn lights were shifting along the cañon walls as they had breakfast. As the morning sunlight spread to their camp Collie's natural curiosity in regard to Overland's pardner was satisfied. He saw a straight, slender figure, in flannel shirt and khaki. The gray eyes were peculiarly keen and humorous. Winthrop was not a little like his sister Anne in poise and coloring.
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