VB saw him stretch a bill close to the lamp and Matson lean low beside him. The light fell on the piece of currency, not six feet from VB's fever-bright eyes. He saw that they were inspecting a fifty-dollar bill issued by the Confederate States of America! And Rhues said grudgingly: "Well, if that ain't good, they's only six hunderd 'n all!" Up came the buried memories, struggling through all the welded events in the furnace consciousness of the man who pressed his face so close to the window's crinkly glass. His eyes sought aimlessly for some object that might suggest a solution for the slipping thought he tried to grasp. They found it--found it in a rumpled, coiled contrivance of leather that lay beside the lamp. It was a money belt. The money belt that Kelly, the horse buyer, had worn! Six hundred dollars! And a Confederate States fifty-dollar bill! They were quarreling over the spoils of that chill murder! VB swayed unsteadily as he felt a rage swell in him, a rage that nullified caution. He turned his eyes back to the Mexican girl cringing just out of his reach and moved the extended hand up and down slowly to keep his warning fresh upon her. He wanted time to think, just a moment to determine what action would be most advisable. His heart raced unevenly and he thought the hot edges of his wound were blistering. "That's two hundred apiece, then," Rhues said, and straightened. VB saw that the hand which had dropped the worthless piece of paper held a roll of yellow-backed bills. "Two hundred we all git," he growled. "You git it, Julio gits it, I git it--an' I'm th' party what done th' work!" VB stooped and grasped Delilah roughly by the arm. He held a finger to his lips as he dragged the shaking girl out to where she could see. "Watch!" he commanded, close in her ear. "Watch Rhues--and the others!" Rhues counted slowly, wetting his thumb with hasty movements and dropping bills from the roll to the table top. "Both you"--he looked up to indicate Matson and Julio--"gits 's much 's me, an' I done th' work!" "An' if we're snagged, we stand as good a chanct o' gettin' away as you," Matson remarked, and laughed shortly. Rhues looked up again and narrowed the red lids over his eyes. "You said it!" he snarled. "That's why it's good to keep yer mouths shut! That's why you got to dig out--with me. "If I'm snagged--remember, they's plenty o' stories I could tell about you two--an' I will, too, if I'm snagged 'cause o' you!" He worked his shoulders in awkward gesture. "An' that's why we want our share," Matson growled back. "An' want it quick! We watched th' road; you done th' killin'. We thought it was jus' to settle things with that ----, but it wasn't. It was profitable." He ended with another short laugh. "Well, I said I'd git him, didn't I? An' I did, didn't I? An' if th' first time went wrong it was--profitable, wasn't it?" "Yes, but queek, queeker!" the Mexican broke in. "They might come--now!"