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Sneed, close behind Posmo, watched to see that the Mexican carried out his instructions, which were simply to tell Panhandle to get his horse and leave town with them. Seeing the group behind the Mexican, Panhandle's first thought was that Posmo had betrayed him to the authorities. It was Posmo. Panhandle recognized the Mexican's pinto horse.
"I say that you owe me a hundred dollar," declared Posmo. "Well, go ahead and collect!" "Yes, go ahead and collect," said Shorty, suddenly siding with Panhandle. "We blowed her in. We're broke, but we ain't cryin' about it." "That is all right," said Posmo quietly. "If the money is gone, she is gone; yes?"
Enraged by what he thought was a trap, and with drunken contempt for the man he had cheated, Panhandle jerked out his gun and fired at the Mexican; fired again at the bulky figure behind Posmo, and staggered back as a slug shattered his shoulder.
On the evening of the fourth day after Pelly had wired the Senator that Sneed and his men had ridden north from Tucson, Posmo, hanging about the eastern outskirts of Phoenix, saw a small band of horsemen against the southern sky-line. Knowing the trail they would take, north, Posmo had timed their arrival almost to the hour.
He stated that unpleasant fact to his companions, Posmo and Shorty, the latter a town loafer he had picked up in Antelope. Shorty had nothing to say. Panhandle's drunken aggressive cowed him. But Posmo, who had really found the market for the stolen stock, felt that he had been cheated. Panhandle had promised him a third of his share of the money.
He had had nothing to do with the actual stealing of them, but he had, with the assistance of his Mexican companion Posmo, engineered the sale to a rancher living out of Tucson. It was understood that the horses would find their way across the border. Now Panhandle was broke again.
He did not care to be mistaken for an enemy, especially so near Phoenix. Sneed, a giant in the dusk, reined in as Posmo hailed the group. Sneed asked his name. Posmo replied, and was told to ride up. Sneed, separating himself from his men, rode a little ahead and met Posmo. "Panhandle is give the deal away," stated Posmo. "How?" "He drunk and spend all the money.
Panhandle had kept on promising from day to day, liquidating his promises with whiskey. And now there was no money. Posmo knew Panhandle well enough not to press the matter, just then. But Panhandle, because neither of his companions had said anything when told that he was broke, turned on Posmo. "What you got to say about it, anyway?" he asked with that curious stubbornness born in liquor.
I aim to talk to Panhandle into ridin' north with us. It's safer to have him along. If you all don't want to ride with me, I'll go in alone." "We're with you, Cap," said one of the men. "Mebby it's safer to ride through the towns from now on than to keep dodgin' 'em," suggested Lawson. "Come on, then," and Sneed indicated Posmo.
"He tell everybody in that place that you turn the good trick and then throw him hard." "Either you're lyin', or Panhandle's crazy." Sneed turned and called to his men, a few paces off. They rode up on tired horses. "What do you say, boys? Panhandle is talkin', over there in Phoenix. Posmo, here, says Panhandle is talkin' about us. Now nobody's got a thing on us.
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