McClintock’s eyes were inscrutable. “Of course.” “Now, looky here, son, that’s our job,” the sheriff remonstrated. “I’m gonna git that fellow. He’s run on the rope too long. You stay right here with Scot.” “No. I want Dutch. He’s mine. Hands off till I can leave Scot, Phil.” The sheriff argued, but he could not move the grim-faced man from his purpose. At last he gave way with a shrug of his shoulders. A wilful man must have his way. “All right, son, I’ll swear you in if you’ll promise to bring Dutch back to Carson providin’ you git him.” “I promise that.” “Alive,” the sheriff added. “Alive,” agreed Hugh, meeting him eye to eye. Baldy Green showed his teeth in a mirthless grin. “A few of us here in town’ll guarantee that if you bring him alive he won’t go away alive.” The officer turned on him angrily. “That’s a fine way to talk, Baldy. You hold yore lines tighter. Monkey with my prisoner an’ I’ll show you a scatter gun that throws buckshot all over Carson.” Meanwhile Hugh kept the wires hot with messages. He telegraphed friends at Virginia, Reno, Piodie, and Genoa, asking for news of the fugitives. His suspicion fastened on Robert Dodson as the man who was riding with Dutch. He knew the man had been in town earlier in the day, and he could not through his friends locate him here now. The night travellers might make for Virginia, where Dutch could lie hidden in one of the Dodson mines till the excitement was past. Or they might be making for Genoa with the intention of crossing the Sierras to California. More likely still they were headed for Piodie, where the sheriff, the law machinery, and the town bad men were all friendly to the Dodson interests. So Hugh reasoned it out. The sheriff shook his head. “Don’t look to me like Dodson would mix himself up with Dutch now. Maybe he hired him to do this killing. I don’t say he did. I don’t know. But it ain’t reasonable that he’d give himself away by ridin’ hellamile outa town with him.” “Ralph Dodson wouldn’t, but you can’t tell what his brother might do. My notion is he didn’t intend to go, but afterwards lost his nerve and wouldn’t stick it out here alone.” “That’d be like Bob Dodson,” Baldy confirmed. “He’s got a sure enough rabbit heart.” None of the answers to his telegrams brought Hugh the message he hoped for. The fugitives had not been seen at Virginia, Genoa, or Reno, though it was quite possible they might have reached or passed through any of these places unnoticed. He decided to play what would nowadays be called a hunch. The natural place for them to go was Piodie, and it was there he meant to look for them. The doctors gave him no hope for Scot, but they now believed that his remarkable vitality would keep him alive several days. Hugh arranged to keep in touch with Baldy Green by wire. Now that the railroad was in operation he could get back to town within a few hours if an emergency call came for him.