"But you are flush now?"

"Wa'al, I've got a few dollars."

"Where did you get your money?"

"That's my business," said Badger, angrily.

"Yes," said the judge, "no gent ain't bound to tell no one how he came by his money-unless some one else goes to work and claims it as his'n."

"My object is to show that Badger received his money from Frank Shirley," said Mr. Willett.

"And what if he did?" asked the judge.

"There is this about it, that if Badger is in Frank Shirley's employ, then he is working to get me and my son out of the way, for if my son dies before he's twenty-one years of age, then Shirley falls heir to a large fortune."

"We ain't a-tryin' Frank Shirley. So I ain't agoin' to let you ax any sich questions," said the judge, rapping vigorously on the table.

Still calm, if not confident, Mr. Willett asked:

"Badger, were not you and Frank Shirley dressed when you say you heard those shots?"

"Wa'al, yes, except our boots," replied Badger.

"And you were awake?"

"No; but I can't say I was sleepin' heavy."

"_Badger, did not you kill Tom Edwards?_"

This question came with the suddenness of an explosion, and it so staggered Badger that it was fully a minute before he could stammer out:

"No. Who said I did?"

"I say it! You committed the murder at Shirley's bidding, so as to get me out of the way, and you prompted the murdered man whom you shot down in the darkness to say I did it," said Mr. Willett with a forceful manner that startled all.

During the confusion that followed this bold but perfectly just accusation, Badger left the witness-stand and mixed in with the astonished crowd.

Frank Shirley was next called, but as his evidence was much the same as that given by Badger, it is unnecessary to record it.

On his cross-examination, he claimed to have no ill-feeling against Mr.

Willett or his son; and he had the boldness to claim that he did not want young Sam's fortune, as he was rich in his own right.

Two other witnesses were called to prove the dying words of Tom Edwards, and on these and the fact that Mr. Willett had no evidence to prove that he had paid for the claim at Gold Cave Camp, the whole case hung.

Mr. Willett testified in his own behalf.

He told such a clear, straightforward story that, for the time being, even his enemies were impressed with its truth.

In a tremulous voice he spoke about his beloved son, whom he feared to be dead, and he said, in conclusion:

"Had it not been for the cruel flood that s.n.a.t.c.hed from me my boy, the only tie that holds me to earth, he would have been here with the paper bearing Tom Edwards' signature, and then you would have seen that I could have no reason for desiring the death of this man, whose drunkenness made him his own worst enemy."

After this Hank Tims told all he knew, corroborating Mr. Willett, and boldly a.s.serting that he was present when Mr. Willett paid the money to Tom Edwards.

Collins and Si Brill testified that they had known Hank "off and on" for many years, and that no man, up to this time had ever dared to say a word against his truthfulness or honesty.

"Wa'al," said the judge, when the evidence was all in, "I give it as my opinion, that them two men, Willett and Tims, kilt Tom Edwards. I don't believe thar stories for a minute. Men that commit crime will lie to hide it every time, and don't you gentlemen of the jury go for to make any mistake about it.

"Thar, that's all I've got to say. Now let the jury take thar time and fetch in a verdict that'll suit all hands. I ain't got anythin' more to say. The evidence is all in, and so, till the time comes to say the prizners is guilty or innocent the trial is jest 'bout over."

CHAPTER XXVII.-THE APACHES HAVE THEIR WAY.

If an earthquake had shaken the rocks about his ears, Sam could not have been more shocked and startled than he was at the barking of the dog.

As for Ike, he was rendered speechless, for Maj had darted away without any apparent effort to hold him back.

"Ah, golly!" gasped Wah Shin, "de fat am allee gone in de file!"

Although Maj had done all the damage possible, for Sam could see by the movements of the Indians that they had heard the barking, yet he did not provoke his young master to anger.

Sam sprang down, caught the dog by the collar and pulled him back to their hiding place.

"I-I wish we'd a left dat ar dorg back home!" cried Ike. "He ain't did no good eber sence we started, but to eat up de grub; an' now he goes an' makes a fuss, jest whin we most wanted foh him to keep his tongue to hisself."

"See that he does not get out again," said Sam. "After all the dog only led the Indians to a discovery which they must have made sooner or later. Ah, I wish Ulna had not gone out. He knows the habits of these people and he would know what to do."

"De man as knows what to do ondah dese yer sarc.u.mstances," groaned Ike, "is a heap sight smarter'n me."

"Plenty men know heap mo' den you," said Wah Shin, who was evidently in a bad humor. "You don' know 'nuff gettee in out lain."

"Hist! Keep still," said Sam, who had again clambered to his perch on the rock that commanded a view of the fire. "I can see men coming this way."

"Oh, laws a ma.s.sy!" cried Ike, and with one hand he held the dog, while with the other he pressed his lips, "to keep from hollerin' right out,"

as he afterward expressed it.

Sam was not mistaken as to the movements of the Apaches. A number of them, led by their chief, had left Ulna in charge of the others and advanced boldly to the head of the ravine.

As a proof that they had no fear of the party they were in search of, one of the braves carried a torch, which he brandished above his head till he seemed to walk amid a fountain of sparks.

Taking a position where he could see without being seen, Sam, with an anxiously beating heart, watched the oncoming braves.

They approached to within about fifty yards of the rocks in which the little band had sought refuge, and came to a sudden halt.

Sam was wondering what would happen next, when, to his great surprise, the chief called out: