“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 might happen to me, ma’am?” he asked, with a queer laugh, “I won’t have it.” “Afraid, perhaps, he might be the one left for the coyotes and the buzzards?” She was white to the lips, but at his next word the blood came flaming back to her cheeks. “Why don’t you tell the truth? Why don’t you; say you love him, and be done with it? Say it and I’ll take him back to Tucson with you safe as if he were a baby.” She covered her face with her hands, but with two steps he had reached her and captured he hands. “The truth,” he demanded, and his eyes compelled. “It is to save his life?” He laughed harshly. “Here’s melodrama for you! Yes—to save your lover’s life.” She lifted her eyes to his bravely. “What you say is true. I love him.”