The Greatest Adventure Books - MacLeod Raine Edition. William MacLeod Raine

damn fool!” The swarthy face creased to an evil smile of derision.

      “I ce'tainly do seem to butt in considerable, Mr. Leroy,” admitted Collins, with an answering smile.

      Leroy's square jaw set like a vise. “It won't happen again, Mr. Sheriff.”

      “I'd hate to gamble on that heavy,” returned Collins easily. Then he caught sight of the girl's white face, and rose to his feet with outstretched hand.

      “Sit down,” snapped out Reilly.

      “Oh, that's all right I'm shaking hands with the lady. Did you think I was inviting you to drill a hole in me, Mr. Reilly?”

      Chapter 18.

       A Dinner for Three

       Table of Contents

      “I thought we bumped you off down at Epitaph,” Leroy said.

      “Along with Scott? Well, no. You see, I'm a regular cat to kill, Mr. Leroy, and I couldn't conscientiously join the angels with so lame a story as a game laig to explain my coming,” said Collins cheerfully.

      “In that case—”

      “Yes, I understand. You'd be willing to accommodate with a hole in the haid instead of one in the laig. But I'll not trouble you.”

      “What are you doing here? Didn't I warn you to attend to your own business and leave me alone?”

      “Seems to me you did load me up with some good advice, but I plumb forgot to follow it.”

      The Wolf cursed under his breath. “You came here at your own risk, then?”

      “Well, I did and I didn't,” corrected the sheriff easily. “I've got a five-thousand policy in the Southeastern Life Insurance Company, so I reckon it's some risk to them. And, by the way, it's a company I can recommend.”

      “Does it insure against suicide?” asked Leroy, his masked, smiling face veiling thinly a ruthless purpose.

      “And against hanging. Let me strongly urge you to take out a policy at once,” came the prompt retort.

      “You think it necessary?”

      “Quite. When you and York Neil and Hardman made an end of Scott you threw ropes round your own necks. Any locoed tenderfoot would know that.”

      The sheriff's unflinching look met the outlaw's black frown serene and clear-eyed.

      “And would he know that you had committed suicide when you ran this place down and came here?” asked Leroy, with silken cruelty.

      “Well, he ought to know it. The fact is, Mr. Leroy, that it hadn't penetrated my think-tank that this was your hacienda when I came mavericking in.”

      “Just out riding for your health?”

      “Not exactly. I was looking for Miss Mackenzie. I cut her trail about six miles from the Rocking Chair and followed it where she wandered around. The trail led directly away from the ranch toward the mountains. That didn't make me any easy in my mind. So I just jogged along and elected myself an investigating committee. I arrived some late, but here I am, right side up—and so hearty welcome that my friend Cork won't hear of my leaving at all. He don't do a thing but entertain me—never lets his attention wander. Oh, I'm the welcome guest, all right. No doubt about that.”

      Wolf Leroy turned to Alice. “I think you had better go to your room,” he said gently.

      “Oh, no, no; let me stay,” she implored. “You would never—you would never—” The words died on her white lips, but the horror in her eyes finished the question.

      He met her gaze fully, and answered her doggedly. “You're not in this, Miss Mackenzie. It's between him and me. I shan't allow even you to interfere.”

      “But—oh, it is horrible! for two minutes.”

      He shook his head.

      “You must! Please.”

      “What use?”

      Let me see you alone

      Her troubled gaze shifted to the strong, brown, sun-baked face of the man who had put himself in this deadly peril to save her. His keen, blue-gray eyes, very searching and steady, met hers with a courage she thought splendid, and her heart cried out passionately against the sacrifice.

      “You shall not do it. Oh, please let me talk it over with you.”

      “No.”

      “Have you forgotten already?—and you said you would always remember.” She almost whispered it.

      She had stung his consent at last. “Very well,” he said, and opened the door to let her pass into the inner room.

      But she noticed that his eyes were hard as jade.

      “Don't you see that he came here to save me?” she cried, when they were alone. “Don't you see it was for me? He didn't come to spy out your place of hiding.”

      “I see that he has found it. If I let him go, he will bring back a posse to take us.”

      “You could ride across the line into Mexico.”

      “I could, but I won't.”

      “But why?”

      “Because, Miss Mackenzie, the money we took from the express car of the Limited is hidden here, and I don't know where it is; because the sun won't ever rise on a day when Val Collins will drive me out of Arizona.”

      “I don't know what you mean about the money, but you must let him go. You spoke of a service I had done you. This is my pay.”

      “To turn him loose to hunt us down?”

      “He'll not trouble you if you let him go.”

      A sardonic smile touched his face. “A lot you know of him. He thinks it his duty to rid the earth of vermin like us. He'd never let up till he got us or we got him. Well, we've got him now, good and plenty. He took his chances, didn't he? It isn't as if he didn't know what he was up against. He'll tell you himself it's a square deal. He's game, and he won't squeal because we win and he has to pay forfeit.”

      The girl wrung her hands despairingly.

      “It's his life or mine—and not only mine, but my men's,” continued the outlaw. “Would you turn a wolf loose from your sheep pen to lead the pack to the kill?”

      “But if he were to promise—”

      “We're not talking about the ordinary man—he'd promise anything and lie to-morrow. But Sheriff Collins won't do it. If you think you can twist a promise out of him not to take advantage of what he has found out you're guessing wrong. When you think he's a quitter, just look at that cork hand of his, and remember how come he to get it. He'll take his medicine proper, but he'll never crawl.”

      “There must be some way,” she cried desperately,

      “Since you make a point of it, I'll give him his chance.”

      “You'll let him go?” The joy in her voice was tremulously plain.

      He laughed, leaning carelessly against the mantelshelf. But his narrowed eyes watched her vigilantly. “I didn't say I would let him go. What I said was that I'd give him a chance.”

      “How?”

      “They say he's a dead shot. I'm a few with a gun myself. We'll ride down to the plains together, and find a good lonely spot suitable for a graveyard. Then one of us will ride away, and the other will stay, or perhaps both of us will stay.”

      She shuddered. “No—no—no. I won't have it.”

      “Afraid something