“I want to say, cap, that I’m eating humble-pie in big chunks right this minute,” said Neil shamefacedly, scratching his curly poll and looking apologetically at his former chief. “I might ’a’ knowed you was straight as a string, all I’ve seen of you these last two years. If those coyotes say another word, cap—” An exploding echo seemed to shake the mountain, and then another. Leroy swayed in the saddle, clutching at his side. He pitched forward, his arms round the horse’s neck, and slid slowly to the ground. Neil was off his horse in an instant, kneeling beside him. He lifted him in his arms and carried him behind a great outcropping boulder. “It’s that hound Collins,” he muttered, as he propped the wounded man’s head on his arm. “By God, I didn’t think it of Val.” Leroy opened his eyes and smiled faintly. “Guess again, York.” “You don’t mean—” He nodded. “Right this time—Hardman and Chaves and Reilly. They shot to get us both. With us out of the way they could divide the treasure between them.” Neil choked. “You ain’t bad hurt, old man. Say you ain’t bad hurt, Phil.” “More than I can carry, York; shot through and through. I’ve been doubtful of Reilly for a long time.” “By the Lord, if I don’t get the rattlesnake for this!” swore Neil between his teeth. “Ain’t there nothin’ I can do for you, old pardner?” In sharp succession four shots rang out. Neil grasped his rifle, leaning forward and crouching for cover. He turned a puzzled face toward Leroy. “I don’t savvy. They ain’t shooting at us.” “The sheriff,” explained Leroy. “They forgot him, and he doubled back on them.” “I’ll bet Val got one of them,” cried Neil, his face lighting. “He’s got one—or he’s quit living. That’s a sure thing. Why don’t you circle up on them from behind, York?” “I hate to leave you, cap—and you so bad. Can’t I do a thing for you?” Leroy smiled faintly. “Not a thing. I’ll be right here when you get back, York.” The curly-headed young puncher took Leroy’s hand in his, gulping down a boyish sob. “I ain’t been square with you, cap. I reckon after this—when you git well—I’ll not be such a coyote any more.” The dying man’s eyes were lit with a beautiful tenderness. “There’s one thing you can do for me, York.... I’m out of the game, but I want you to make a new start.... I got you into this life, boy. Quit it, and live straight. There’s nothing to it, York.” The cowboy-bandit choked. “Don’t you worry about me, cap. I’m all right. I’d just as lief quit this deviltry, anyhow.” “I want you to promise, boy.” A whimsical, half-cynical smile touched Leroy’s eyes. “You see, after living like a devil for thirty years, I want to die like a Christian. Now, go, York.” After Neil had left him, Leroy’s eyes closed. Faintly he heard two more shots echoing down the valley, but the meaning of them was already lost to his wandering mind.