"Now ain't that too bad--and I always wanted to go to Mexico, too," said Johnny wistfully. "But I reckon I can't make it this riffle. You see, this old rooster has treated me pretty white--not locked me up, and everything. I wouldn't like to take advantage of it. Come to think of it, I told him I wouldn't." "Well, say!" Charlie stopped, at loss for words. "I get your idea--but man, they'll hang you!" "I'm sorry for that, too," said Johnny regretfully. "But you see how it is. I haven't any choice. Much obliged, just the same." Then his face brightened. "Wait! Wait a minute. Let me think. Look now--if Gwinne locks me up in a cell, bimeby--why, you might come round and have another try, later on. That will be different." "I'll go you once on that," returned the rescuer eagerly. "Which is your cell?" "Why, under the circumstances it wouldn't be just right to tell you--would it, now?" said the prisoner, doubtfully. "I reckon you'll have to project round and find that out for yourself." "Huh!" snorted Charlie See. "Of course if I make a get-away it looks bad--like admitting the murder. On the other hand, if I'm hanged, my friends would always hate it. So there we are. On the whole, I judge it would be best to go. Say, Gwinne'll be calling me to chuck. Reckon I better beat him to it. You run on, now, and roll your hoop. I'll be thinking it over. G'night!" His face disappeared from the embrasure. Charlie See retired Indian-fashion to the nearest cover, straightened up, and wandered discontentedly down the hill to Hillsboro's great white way. XI "We retired to a strategic position prepared in advance." --_Communiqués of the Crown Prince._ Charlie See was little known in the county seat. It was not his county, to begin with, and his orbit met Hillsboro's only at the intersection of their planes. Hillsboro was a mining town, first, last and at all intervening periods. Hillsboro's "seaport," Lake Valley, was the cowman's town; skyward terminus of the High Line, twig from a branch railroad which was itself a feeder for an inconsiderable spur. The great tides of traffic surged far to north and south. This was a remote and sheltered backwater, and Hillsboro lay yet twelve miles inland from Lake Valley. Here, if anywhere, you found peace and quiet; Hillsboro was as far from the tumult and hurly-burly as a corner of Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street. Along the winding way, where lights of business glowed warm and mellow, feverish knots and clusters of men made a low-voiced buzzing; a buzzing which at See's approach either ceased or grew suddenly clear to discussion of crossroads trivialities. From one of these confidential knots, before the Gans Hotel, a unit detached itself and strolled down the street. "Howdy, Mr. See," said the unit as Charlie overtook it. "Which way now?" "Oh, just going round to the hardware store to get a collar button."