“Well, I had a right, didn’t I?” blustered Tolley. “Every right in the world.” The mining man spoke evenly now, coldly. “And you’ve got a better right to keep the story to yourself right along.” “What d’ye mean?” “What I say. Keep your mouth shut about it. Don’t let me hear of you opening your yawp the way you did just now. I don’t half believe this yarn, anyway. You couldn’t tell _all_ the truth about anything, Tolley. The truth isn’t in you. But sometimes a half-truth does more harm than a whole lie. You stick to your first story about Dick the Devil going to Denver. Understand?” “I don’t understand why I should do what you say, Hurley.” The latter patted the butt of his own gun. “Notice that?” he said with a deadly fierceness that shocked Hunt. “If you repeat this yarn, I’ll come after you. And if I come after you, Tolley, I’ll get you!” He went back to the waiting Bouncer and mounted into the saddle without another word or a glance at Tolley. But Hunt, his nerves strained to a tension he had never before experienced, watched the owner of the Grub Stake sharply. Hurley’s disregard of the fellow amazed the man from the East. He did not realize that Tolley was so unstrung that he could not have hit the broad side of a barn if he had drawn his gun. But Joe Hurley knew it. The two young men rode on to the door of the hotel, both silent. Cholo Sam was watching Betty’s pony. The girl had dismounted and gone up to her room. “Joe, what is going to be the end of this?” asked Hunt in a low voice. “I don’t know, Willie.” “Will you speak——” “To Nell? Not on your life!” “But the truth will come out some time. Who was that Dick?” Hurley told him. He went further and told of the interest the cabaret singer had shown in the gambler for some time previous to Dick’s disappearance—before Nell had gone to Hoskins to sing in the Tin Can Saloon. “It—it looks bad,” faltered Hunt. “Bad is no name for it.” “The girl should be questioned.” “Not by me!” cried Hurley. “I don’t think Tolley will run the risk of speaking to her about it,” he added. “He has already,” said Hunt. He explained about what he and Betty had overheard pass between Nell Blossom and the owner of the Grub Stake the evening previous. “Great saltpeter!” gasped Hurley. “Then that’s why Nell cut that caper just now. She didn’t do it just for deviltry. She was warning Tolley on her own hook.” “Joe, there must be no bloodshed over this. If one man has died, that is enough,” Hunt said sternly. “We must get at the truth.” “Not me!” cried Hurley again. “I wouldn’t tackle Nell for a farm.” “And—and you are so close to her—know her so well?” murmured Hunt. “That ain’t no never-mind,” the mining man said earnestly. “That girl’s got teeth, I tell you.” “But she is in danger. She must be questioned.” “Great saltpeter! You wouldn’t get nothing out of Nell Blossom—nothing that she didn’t want to tell.” “She should be convinced that her greater danger lies in silence.”