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I haven't one of my own." "I see." Fyles's manner became more easy. Then he went on. "Where are your boys? Where's Pete?" Kate's eyes widened. "Gracious goodness only knows," she said, in sheer exasperation. "I only hope Nick turns up to drive me. I surely will have to get rid of them both. I've had enough of Pete since he got drunk and insulted Helen.
Once they take to the hills, it's like a needle in a haystack. Maybe friend Anton is in hiding there." "I doubt it. 'Tough' McCulloch didn't belong to them, as I told you. He comes from over the border. No; he's getting away as fast as his horse can carry him. And Arizona isn't far off his trail, if I'm any judge." Fyles's great round face was turned contemplatively on his companion.
And, wondering, there came the memory of what Fyles's coming would mean to Charlie Bryant. To her mind there was no doubt but that the law would quickly direct its energies against him. But she was also wondering what would happen to him should time, and a man's persistence, finally succeed in breaking down the barrier Kate had set up against the officer.
All her apprehensions for Charlie Bryant vanished, merged in a newly awakened confidence, since her brave sister was ready to help and defend him. She felt that Fyles's coming to Rocky Springs was no longer to be feared. Only was it a source of excitement and interest.
If you had any sort of horse sense you'd have understood I wasn't in need of a wet-nurse. What the devil do you want smelling out my trail as if you were one of the police?" Then he suddenly broke into an unpleasant laugh. "You came here in Fyles's company. Maybe you caught the police infection from him." Bill stared in wide-eyed astonishment at the harsh injustice of the attack.
Instantly Fyles's voice rang out. "Halt, or we fire!" he cried. The horsemen drew rein at once, but the reply was a pistol-shot in the direction whence his voice had sounded. The defiance was Tresler's signal. He passed the word to his men, and a volley of carbine-fire rang out at once, and confusion in the ranks of the horsemen followed immediately. Then the battle began in deadly earnest.
In his curious way he seemed suddenly to have become the man of action, full of a keenness of perception and shrewdness which might well have carried an added conviction to Stanley Fyles, had he witnessed the display. "Listen," he said, with a thrill of excitement. "Maybe it's not necessary to tell you. Maybe it's stale news. Anyway, to-morrow is to be the day of Fyles's coup."
He had detected the upper part of the man's body, and the shadowy outline of a wide-brimmed prairie hat. Now, as Peter moved at that shuffling, restful amble which all prairie horses acquire, he leaned down over the horn of his saddle and peered ahead. The man was sitting stock still upon his horse. Instinctively Fyles's hand went to his revolver, and remained there.
Nor had she time to call them back, for, at that moment, Fyles's horse drew up at the front door, and she heard the officer leap out of the saddle. "Have you made your peace with headquarters?" Kate and Stanley Fyles were standing out in the warm shade of the house. The woman's hand was gently caressing the velvety muzzle of Peter's long, fiddle face.
He was standing beside the superintendent, and both men were bending over one of those secret official charts of the district surrounding Rocky Springs. They were alone in Jason's bare, even mean office. Fyles's long, firm forefinger was pointing along a trail, and his sharp, incisive words were explaining something of his convictions as his finger moved.
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