"Seems to be about the only thing we can do about it, Jelly," Bud said soothingly. "We could tie him up, but even then it wouldn't be absolutely safe. You can't blame these bankers for not wanting to take a chance of losing all this money, now that they have it back. He might get loose and warn Palmer in some way. We'll go back by a roundabout way through the hills, just because they don't want a soul to know they've got the money. Once that's safe, we'll go after Palmer and his bunch, yes. But you must see, Jelly, that--" "Oh, hell, go awn and leave me to m' thoughts!" Gelle pulled down the corners of his mouth, stepped over the gold, turned back and gave it a kick as if he would show his familiarity with it, and grinned at Bud. "I never did have no luck, nohow." He lounged over and sat down beside the sleeper, and spat disgustedly into the lush grass near by. He waved them toward town, made a derisive gesture and started to roll a smoke, giving them no further attention. "Jelly's a fine boy, all right, and it's a damned shame he has to stand guard--but I'm darned if I'm sorry enough for him to stay in his place," Bud observed with futile sympathy, when they were riding townward by devious trails which kept to the hills and concealed them from any passer-by on the road. "Still--are you dead sure Palmer's bunch will stay in town?" Bradley laughed. "The way Tony and the boys had it framed, Palmer's gang will give no heed to the passing hours. You know, of course, what the boys meant to do?" "I didn't know they meant to do anything," Bud confessed. "Darn 'em, they must have held out on me." "Well, now, if they don't get hung before we hit town, they may stir up something interesting. The idea was to play off drunk, and when the crowd was pretty thoroughly worked up, seeing them spend money--gold money which they acted sneaking about--each one of the boys planned to get a Palmer man off in a corner, do the 'weeping-drunk' and confess that he went down river from Meadowlark Basin in a boat, killed Charlie and robbed the bank, and that he had the stuff cached and wanted a man he could trust to help him get the stuff safely out of the country. They had it planned out to the last detail: how long it ought to take them to get so drunk they'd confide in a man they never had chummed with, and just how they'd manage to lead up to the subject. Tony said he'd take Bat Johnson into his confidence, and Rosen was to tackle Palmer himself, I believe. Bob and Mark were going to buttonhole Ed White and the Mexican. It sure sounded like it might work--if they don't get lynched, as I said.