“I held up you and Soapy Caswell. That was a dummy sack. They didn’t trust me. Meecham fixed it up. They took a —— of a big chance, didn’t they? Leach wanted to loot Sun Dog, just like you said. Baldy and Ike Welden robbed themselves, and then Ike set the fire that day, while Meecham hid the bank money. “They all gave the same description. Leach thought it might put you three fellers in bad—and he wanted to elect Hank Stagg. Leach wanted too much, I reckon. I—I never got my split of the money, but it’s in the cellar of Meecham’s house. Welden set the dynamite off under your office, and Hank Stagg shot Soapy Caswell. “Meecham was out there the night you found Mostano killin’ the beef, and one of your bullets hit his saddle. He came huntin’ for me to find out about the payroll. I don’t know who killed the livery-stable keeper, but it was some of the gang. They didn’t want you to question him about the bullet-hole in the saddle.” “Thank yuh, Santel,” said Brick weakly. “That all proves that I’m a good guesser. But I don’t know yet why yuh killed Leach.” Santel smiled softly and his eyes wandered around the circle of interested faces. “Some of yuh take care of the kid, will yuh?” His voice was weaker now. “Baldy was my brother. I—I took the name of Santel, because I was no good—a killer. Baldy must ’a’ been led into doin’ wrong. They named the kid after me—Whizzer. Hank knew this, but Leach didn’t until later—and he was afraid I’d find it out. I killed Mostano today, but I couldn’t find the kid.” “By golly, that’s where the resemblance came in, Brick,” exclaimed Harp. “Little Whizzer looks like Santel.” “I’ll take care of Whizzer,” said Brick. “We’ll all take care of Whizzer,” amended Silent. “Don’tcha never worry about that, Santel.” Santel nodded as if satisfied, and little Whizzer came out from behind the bar, his eyes wide with fright, and ran to Brick. “Geeminy gosh!” he shrilled. “Is all that shootin’ over?” “It’s all over, buddy,” said Brick weakly. “There ain’t goin’ to be no more shootin’—not for a while, I hope.” “I hope there never will be again,” said Santel slowly. “It don’t pay.” He swayed sidewise on his hands and sank down on his face. “When do I see my daddy?” asked Whizzer impatiently. Brick drew the youngster to him with his one good arm, and looked around at the crowd, as if appealing to them for an answer. “You better see a doctor, Brick,” advised Harp. “You’re losin’ a lot of blood.” “Ain’t nobody goin’ to tell me where my dad is?” demanded Whizzer. “Is he out on his trip?” “Yeah, he’s out on his trip,” whispered Brick. Whizzer turned his head and looked out through the open door into the darkness. He knew that his father always came home before dark. His eyes came back to Brick, as he said— “He must be takin’ a long trip this time.” “Yeah, a long trip, buddy,” breathed Brick. There was a silence. Then— “Aw-w-w, —— the luck!”