"About a year ago, near as I can remember, this man Caney--Big Ed Caney--deputy sheriff in Dona Ana--did you know that? Thought not. Well, he went out beyond Hatch with a warrant for a fellow. He found another man--old Mexican sheep herder--cut down on him with a rifle and ordered him to throw 'em up. The old Mexican was scared or else he remembered something, I don't know which; he was perfectly innocent of this particular charge, whatever it was; they caught the other man later. Anyhow the old gentleman made a dash for his gun--it was leaning up against a tree not far away. And Caney killed him." "So you think maybe Caney wanted to start something. Ambush, maybe? So I'd go after my gun?" "I don't know anything about what Caney wanted to do or didn't want to do. All I know is--he didn't." "And the Garfield boys wouldn't stand for it?" persisted Johnny. "Lull and Charlie See won't stand for any crooked work--if it's them you mean. Lull was the only Garfield man. Charlie See is from Dona Ana, where they grow good and bad, same as they do here." "Yes. I see. I know Jody and Toad Hales, myself. I met Lull and See yesterday evenin', just out of Garfield. Say, Mr. Gwinne, could you rustle me a razor?" "I can too. Anything else on your mind?" "Why, no. Only I wish I knew where the John Cross outfit is holding forth, and when they are likely to get word about me being in a tight. They may hear to-day, and it may be a week." "They're up beyond Hermosa, somewhere at the head of Cuchillo Creek. And I shouldn't much wonder if they heard about you to-day sometime." Mr. Gwinne looked through the window at the visible wedge of Hillsboro, wavy low hills and winding streets; looked with long and lingering interest, and added irrelevantly: "I knew your father." * * * * * Late that afternoon a heavy knock came at the outer door of the jail. Gwinne hustled his prisoner into a cell and answered the call. He was greeted at the door by Aloys Preisser, the assayer, a gay-hearted old Bavarian--the same for whom, in his youth, Preisser Hill was named--and by Hobby Lull. Hobby's face was haggard and drawn; there were dark circles under his eyes. "We want to settle a bet," announced Hobby, "and we're leaving it to you. I say that Robin Hood knocked out the Proud Sheriff of Nottingham, and Preisser claims it was a draw. How about it?" "Hood got the decision on points," said Gwinne soberly. "There! What did I tell you, you old hunk of Limburger?" Hobby Lull laid hands delicately upon his adversary's short gray beard and tugged it with deferential gentleness. The unresisting head wagged sedately to and fro. "Take that, you old bug hunter!" said Hobby, and stood back, waiting. The assayer became statuesque. "You see, Mister Deputy? He has assauldt gommitted, and you a witness are. With abusive language!" "The wienerwurst is yet to come," observed Lull, in a voice sepulchral and ominous.