As the horse-thief stood looking down upon her heaving shoulders the puzzled look in his eyes gave place to a decided twinkle, which an instant later changed to a look of mild reproach: "Say, sis, who do you think you be? Claimin' _you_ killed Purdy! Why, there ain't no more chance you killed him, than there is that I didn't." He extended his hand in which an automatic pistol of large calibre lay flat in the palm.

"This here gun shoots jest twict as swift as yours. Agin your eight hundred feet of muzzle v'losity, I've got almost two thousan'--an' I'd got in two shots before you begun! Then, too, if you'll take a look around, you'll see that some other folks has got pretty fair claim on him. Take Bill here, his 30-40 rifle shoots half-agin as swift as my automatic--an' he begun shootin' when I did. An' look at the breed, yonder, stickin' fresh sh.e.l.ls in his gun. I bet that bird never missed--an' he shot jest a hair before I did. An' the pilgrim he shot, too--but I wouldn't bet on him--he might of missed--but the rest of us didn't. An' I ain't sayin' you _missed_, mind you. 'Cause I think you got him every crack out of the box. But he was dead 'fore you started shootin'. Yup--what you done was to pump about a quart of lead into a dead man, 'fore he could hit the ground--an', believe me--that's _shootin'_! But the killin' part--that goes to the fastest guns."

The girl's eyes lighted: "Oh, I--I'm glad I haven't got that on my conscience. I'd hate to think that I had killed--even him." The next instant she was gone, and they watched her as she bent low over the Texan, who had struggled to his elbow.

"Janet--darling," he whispered, "do you know--about--_her_?"

The girl blushed furiously at the words, and the blue-black eyes shone like twin stars. "Yes," she breathed, "I know. She's at Cinnabar Joe's--and she told me all about it. And, Tex, I think she's fine!"

The Texan nodded: "She is, an'," he indicated Endicott with a nod of his head, "there's her husband over there shaking hands with Ca.s.s, an' he's just as fine as she is--they're real folks, girl--but, never mind them.

What I want to know is--will you marry me tomorrow, dear?"

"Tomorrow!"

"Might's well be tomorrow as next week--or next month! Come on--please!

You can't get away from me, so you might as well. An' besides here I am, shot in the leg an' if you don't give me my own way I'm likely to run a fever, an' have to get it cut off--so it's up to you, sweetheart--a one-legged man a month from now, or a two-legged one tomorrow. Which?"

The girl bent very close: "I--I think I'd rather have a two-legged one--darling." And the next instant the man's arms were about her and her lips were crushed to his.

"Say, Ca.s.s," whispered Bill Harlow, with an eye on the girl who was bending over the wounded man. "I never shot at Purdy--I got that d.a.m.ned skunk down there in the rocks that shot Tex."

"Me, too," chimed in Old Bat.

"I shot at him, too," said Endicott.

"h.e.l.l!" answered Grimshaw, with a wink, "so did I--but, don't never let her know."

There was a moment of silence which was broken by Endicott, who stepped forward and grasped the speaker's hand. "I am proud to be admitted to the friendship of Ca.s.s Grimshaw, horse-thief, and--gentleman," he said, and turned away to see the Texan looking at him with a twinkle in his eye.

CHAPTER XXVIII

BACK ON RED SAND

While Ca.s.s Grimshaw and Bill Harlow rounded up the horses, and transferred the girl's saddle from the dead mare to one of the animals belonging to the outlaws, Endicott and Bat a.s.sisted Janet to bind up the Texan's wound.

When at last they were ready for the trail, Grimshaw called Endicott aside: "You an' the breed come along with me," he whispered, "you must be middlin' anxious to see yer wife, an' I'll take you to Cinnabar Joe's. The girl, there, she knows the way, an' they can follow along slower," he paused and winked, "he won't be wantin' to ride no ways fast--on account of that leg."

Endicott's eyes lighted with sudden understanding as he glanced at the two figures who stood side by side near the horses: "By George!" he exclaimed, "I wonder----"

"Wonder--h.e.l.l! Give 'em a chance! Come on, we'll pull out. Bill, he'll h'ist him onto his horse, an' then he'll stay an' drop them corpses down some mud crack."

As Endicott leaped from his horse in front of Cinnabar Joe's cabin, his wife rushed from the door and threw herself into his arms.

"Oh, Win--Win--dear!" she sobbed, "oh--can you ever forgive me? But--it was the only way--they'd have killed him!"

Endicott soothed her: "Forgive you! I have nothing to forgive, dearest.

I know it's all right! At first I was a little--worried, but Old Bat came along--and after that, I knew it was all right--but come on, let's go inside and you can tell me all about it!"

Cinnabar Joe greeted Grimshaw and Bat at the horse corral: "Seen Tex?"

he asked anxiously. Grimshaw nodded: "Yeh--we seen him."

"Did he--git Purdy?"

Grimshaw shook his head: "No--he didn't git him. He almost, but he didn't quite."

Without a word, Cinnabar turned, entered the corral, and stepped out a few moments later leading a saddled horse.

"Where you goin'?" asked Grimshaw.

"To Wolf River."

"Wolf River! What's goin' on in Wolf River that you're so h.e.l.l bent to take in?"

Cinnabar hesitated just an instant, then he spoke: "You might as well know it as the rest of 'em. I'm goin' to give myself up, an' I want to beat Purdy to it. He's got somethin' on me--a hold-up that I was partly mixed up in, way back when I was a kid. I never got none of the money, an' I've be'n on the level since. I figgered I'd payed fer that long ago. But, if Purdy got away, he'll tip me off. It's goin' to be hard as h.e.l.l on her." He nodded toward his wife, who stood at some distance talking earnestly with Old Bat.

Grimshaw leaned over and laid a hand on the man's shoulder: "Put up yer horse, boy," he said; "you've got a nice little outfit started here--you an' her. Stay right with it--an' stay on the level. Forgit anything that might of happened a long time ago. It's the things you do now, an' what yer goin' to do that counts. Tex didn't git Purdy--but they was five more of us there to back up his play. We was all of us more or less handy with our guns. An' between the whole of us--we managed to git him.

Purdy's dead, Cinnabar--dead as Julius Caesar, an' all his pals is dead--an' whatever he had on you died with him."

"There comes Tex, now!" cried Cinnabar, pointing to two riders who appeared outlined for a moment against the opposite valley rim, before beginning the descent of the slope. "He's ridin' McWhorter's blue roan.

But who's that with him? Why--it's McWhorter's girl! But, what horse has she got? She busted out of here two or three hours ago ridin' her bay mare!"

As the two riders approached across the narrow valley, Grimshaw fingered his stubby beard: "There's a pair to draw to," he muttered.

"Do you mean----?"

"Yes--that's just what I mean! But, they rode a d.a.m.n sight faster than what I would, at that."

"Hey, Bat! You old reprobate!" called the Texan, as his horse ascended the bank from the creek, "take Cinnabar's cayuse an' beat it for Wolf River! An' you make him scratch gravel! Now's the chance to do me a good turn on account of them four-bits I give you--way back in Las Vegas--remember?"

The old half-breed grinned broadly: "_Oui_, A'm 'member dat fo'-bit."

Reaching into his shirt he withdrew a half-dollar suspended from his neck by a greasy thong of rawhide. "See, A'm ain' fergit. Dat fo'-bit she giv' me chanc' to pay heem back 'bout seex-seven hondre tam'. W'at you wan' in Wo'f Reevaire? Nodder pilgrim to hang, eh, _bien_?"

Joining in the laugh that followed the old half-breed's sally, the Texan rode to his side and handed him some yellow bills. "You hit the trail now--an' hit it hard. An' you show up here tomorrow morning with a preacher an' a round yellow ring--savvy?"

"_Oui!_ De pries' an' de ring! _Voila!_" The old man looked straight into the eyes of the girl who sat her horse close beside the Texan. "You gon' mar' heem tomor'?"

Janet, blushing furiously, laughed an affirmative.

Bat nodded: "Dat good. You git de bes' dam' man on de worl'! Dat Tex mebbe-so she git to be de gov'--de w'at you call, de _president_! But, som'tam' he lak de bad boy an' you got to knock h.e.l.l out of heem to mak'

heem good. Ol' Bat--he know. For er long tam' A'm know heem. You lov'

heem lak h.e.l.l. Een de eye A'm see it--an' een de eye A'm see you gon'

to mak heem stay good----"

"Hey, you old leather image!" laughed the Texan, "what are you tryin' to do--scare me out?"