"That's almost just what I thought, sheriff," Rathburn drawled.

Long stepped into the room, shoving his guns into their holsters. Many other guns were covering Rathburn.

"What's the meaning of all this, anyway?" demanded Long with a puzzled expression on his face. His eyes widened, as he saw the bag of money on the table. "Is that the money that was taken from your bank this morning Mr. Doane?" he asked sharply.

Doane nodded weakly. The sheriff looked at Rathburn curiously.

"You brought it back? You was up to Joe Price's place."

"Yes, I brought it back, sheriff," said Rathburn cheerfully.

"Well, I'll be frank and tell you, Rathburn, that if you expect leniency after what happened this morning you might just as well give up that idea. Any man can change his mind when he sees he can't get away."

"That's up to you, sheriff," replied Rathburn, taking tobacco and papers from his shirt pocket. "As I was just tellin' our friend, Mr.

Eagen, I brought it back on purpose, an' I expected to see you when I got here. I came near not gettin' here at that."

"You took a long chance," scowled Long. "But it won't get you much now at this stage of the game--especially after the way you led me to believe this morning that you were thinking of giving yourself up."

Eagen's laugh startled them.

"He brought it back to give it up an' himself, too?" he jeered. "He brought it back, sheriff, because he an' that rat of a Doane planned this thing. Coyote got away with the money an' came back here to divvy up with Doane. Didn't Doane make the same kind of a proposition to me?

Didn't he tell me he was short in his accounts, an' it could be covered up if the bank was robbed, for then he could say more money was took than really was? I'll say he did. An' I was goin' to see if he'd go through with it, an' then I was going to wise you up so we could get him cold."

With knitted brows the sheriff stared at Eagen, then looked at the white-faced Doane.

"Tell him I'm tellin' the truth!" shouted Eagen at the shaking bank cashier. "You can't get out of it."

There was a tense moment.

Doane shook his head weakly; he was a picture of guilt.

"He got scared I wouldn't go through with the play, sheriff," Eagen continued. "Thought maybe I'd make off with all the kale. So he framed it with Rathburn, an' I caught 'em about to divide it here."

"He lies!" screamed Doane. "I didn't frame it with Rathburn. I can prove it. That man"--he pointed a shaking finger at Eagen--"has come to me with threats and made me take securities I knew were stolen.

There's some of them in the bank now. Some of the stuff he took from the stage driver yesterday is there! He's pulled job after job----"

Eagen, recovering from his amazement at the man's outbreak, leaped and drove his powerful fist against Doane's jaw, knocking him nearly the length of the room, where he crashed with his head against the stones of the fireplace. Eagen turned quickly. His eyes were blazing red.

"You're the man!" he yelled wrathfully. "You're the yellow Coyote----"

His right hand went to his gun, as there came a crashing report. He staggered back, trying to get out the weapon which had not left his holster. He sank down to his knees, still glaring death at the man above him, still fumbling at his gun. Then he lurched forward on his face.

Rathburn flipped his smoking pistol so that its barrel landed in his hand. Then he tendered it, b.u.t.t foremost, to Sheriff Bob Long. Long took it and threw it on the table, looking first at Rathburn, then at the dead man on the floor. He waved toward the doors and windows.

"You boys can draw back," he ordered.

Mallory stepped to the fallen Doane. The man's face had set in a white cast. He felt his heart.

"He did for him," he said, rising.

Laura Mallory came walking slowly up to the sheriff. Her face was ghastly after what she had witnessed.

"Sheriff Long," she said in a voice strangely calm, "we heard Eagen"--she shuddered, as she mentioned the name--"ask Roger--ask Mr.

Rathburn last night to help with some job that would get them a lot of money. It may be that--that--Fred did plan such a thing. I'm sorry to say it, but Fred had seemed awfully nervous lately, and to-night he came to me and asked me to run away with him--at once. He seemed horribly afraid of something. Anyway, Roger refused to go in with Eagen, and an examination of Fred's books will tell all."

She hesitated. Then she spoke slowly and softly.

"I know why Roger robbed the bank and----"

"Stop, Laura!" cried Rathburn.

"No," said Laura firmly; "you may be going to prison."

He put out one hand in protest.

Turning again to the sheriff she said:

"Roger did go to town last night, intending to give himself up. I knew he was going to do it by the way he looked at me. But to-day he saw me with Mr. Doane, and maybe he's heard things for which there was no warrant. Anyway, I know he thought I--I--was in love with Fred."

"Laura--please!" Rathburn pleaded.

"And to-night," said the girl in triumph, "he heard Fred was cashier of the bank he'd robbed, and he brought the money back because he thought the robbery would hurt Fred and in that way hurt me!"

Rathburn turned appealingly to the sheriff. "Let's go," he urged.

"He robbed that bank because he thought I had betrayed his trust, Sheriff Long!" cried Laura, her eyes shining.

"Are we going, Long?" cried Rathburn in an agony.

The sheriff stepped to the door and called to some of his men who entered and bore the bodies of Doane and Eagen out of the sitting room. Then he took the money sack from the table and indicated to Rathburn to follow him, as he went out of the door. Rathburn went after him quickly, and the girl ran to the porch. Rathburn drew back with a cry, as he reached the porch. Just beyond the steps a horse was lying on its side.

"My--my hoss!" he cried wonderingly.

He leaped down beside the dead beast. Then he saw crimson upon the animal's shoulder, as a little gleam of light came from the door.

"That was why he jumped on the trail. He was. .h.i.t. He carried me all this way with a bullet in him an' then dropped! One of Long's men shot him."

Rathburn looked about vacantly. Then he sank down and buried his face on the shoulder of the dun, as Sheriff Long turned away. Laura Mallory stepped quickly to the side of the sheriff and touched his arm.

"Is he as bad as you think, sheriff?"

Long scowled at her in the dim light from the door, took out a thick, black cigar, bit the end off savagely, and began to chew it. He walked abruptly out to where some of his men were standing by their horses, and he said something in an undertone. When he returned, Rathburn had taken the saddle and bridle off the dead horse and was throwing the leather on the porch.

"Yours, dad," he called to Mallory; "I wouldn't use 'em again if I could." Then he turned to the sheriff. "All right, Bob."

"Come inside," said Long gruffly.