The Diamond-Bar foreman rightly suspected that Scanlon’s annoyance was largely due to the fact that this affair would throw a wet blanket on the spending of money. He had been waiting some three months for this harvest. Gallup, the coroner, and Stub returned at this moment, and Scanlon was saved replying to the challenge in Hobe’s words. “What’s all the trouble?” Gallup demanded when he had entered the room. “It’s a job for you, Aaron,” Ferris replied. “Vin just found him a few minutes ago.” Gallup surveyed the dead man. “Humph! Did a good job, didn’t he? Guess he wouldn’t ’a’ been no deader in the mornin’. Gittin’ so I can’t git a good night’s sleep no more.” “Yo’re still drawin’ down yore wages reg’lar, ain’t yuh?” Old Aaron wiped his nose with the back of his hand at this query from Ferris. “Sorta reg’lar, Hobe,” Gallup answered with a wise little smile. “All due to me, though. Any man that can git fifteen hundred a year out of this county has earned it. If you folks ever start raisin’ my wages I’m goin’ to quit cold.” While he talked, Gallup had been examining the dead man’s clothes and his gun. “This bird sure knew what he was doin’,” he muttered. “Ain’t a mark on him to identify him. Queer old gun he used. Well, we got men enough here. I guess I’ll swear you in and git done right now.” “We’re shy one, Aaron,” said Hobe. “Where’s Johnny? Ought to have him, he’s so _up_ on these things.” “Him and Tony’s over to the Bud. They’ll be comin’ soon as the news gits round.” “I got enough,” Aaron answered. “Johnny Dice ain’t law-abidin’ no more, anyhow.” Without further delay he began swearing them to the truth. Before he had finished the jingle of spur chains below caught Scanlon’s ear. “There’s someone now.” He went to the stairs and looked down. “Say, Johnny, you’re just in time. Need another man up here.” “Surest thing, old dear. What’s the limit?” “No limit. It’s a dead man. Gallup’s here.” “Do I know him?” demanded Johnny. “No one’s ever clapped eyes on him ’cept Vin. But he don’t know nothin’, either.” Johnny had stopped to shake the rain from his hat. He turned now to Madeiras. “Come on, Tony. What you grumblin’ about?” Tony smiled. “I t’ought Scanlon say Gallup ees daid.” “You sound disappointed. What you cookin’ up for old Aaron?” “You forget my name, Johnny. I am a Madeiras. There ees lots of Madeiras.” “Still thinkin’ ’bout that, eh? You best tell your people not to borrow no money from Aaron. He’s a money hound, boy. I tell yuh he knows those gents on the greenbacks personal.” Tony tapped his chest. “Somet’ings we don’t forget, Johnny.” They were upstairs by this time. Aaron scowled at the Basque, but he chose him in preference to Johnny. “One of you is all I need,” the old man muttered. Johnny was defeated, but not stilled. “They certainly keep you busy, don’t they, Aaron?” he asked provokingly. “That’ll be enough talk from you, Johnny,” Gallup snapped. “If you want to stay in the room you keep still.”