"Hold on," said Bates. "Old Bryant has a buckboard an' team in the shed. He brought 'em when he came. Why don't you take Mort back in that yer own self?" Wallie explained that he was leaving shortly and would drive the team and ride the buckboard, with his own horse hitched behind. He had to hurry though, and didn't care to wait until the coroner's work was finished. In fact, he planned to start back for the Basin right away. He wanted to be there by daybreak. "All right, then," said Bates. "I'll see that everything's tended to." Further conversation and conjecture was carried to the nearest saloon. The general opinion seemed to be that Bryant had helped his nephew out of jail. Then someone unknown had called upon Bryant. Mort had found him there, when trying to sneak into the room. The unknown man had fired, but Mort had run away. The gunman had fired again, and this time he hit Bryant. Blood on the bed proved that Bryant had been hit. Then pursuit of Mort, who ran despite the wounded leg, led to his final death by stabbing. The eyewitnesses from the hotel room had first seen the stranger with the white horse standing close to Mort. That was just before he had ridden away. This explanation suited everyone, and further action was dependent on Slim Peasley. Which meant that there probably would be no further investigation. Wallie went from place to place, locating the men from the Basin, telling them what had happened and suggesting that they start at once for home. He was the last to leave Red Oak. By the time he had driven the buckboard through the rough, rocky bottom of the Gap, the cowhands had been home for some time. When he drove in at daybreak, he found them still awake and excited over the discovery of old Gimlet. They hadn't found Sawtell, Rangoon, Lombard, or Lonergan in the bunkhouse. "Dunno where the hell them boys went," they said. "They don't dare risk goin' tuh Red Oak, because yuh never can tell when the sheriff'll be there, or maybe a Ranger, or some gent that'd recognize 'em an' turn 'em in fer the reward." Wallie was tired and annoyed at the missing quartet. He ordered fresh horses hitched to the buckboard, gave instructions for the disposal of old Gimlet's body, then went to the house. Throwing open the door, he stopped abruptly. A strange sight greeted him. One lamp was lighted. Though the wick was turned low, there was sufficient illumination to reveal disorder in the room. On top of a table, a chair; on the chair a log, braced against the beamed ceiling. Sitting near the fireplace, Wallie saw an Indian. Furiously angry, he started forward, then halted again. The Indian was wide-awake, holding a heavy revolver in his hand. "What the--?" started Wallie. "You," muttered the Indian, "close door. Sit down. We wait." "Wait for what? Who are yuh, and what're yuh doin' here? What's all this mean?" "Girl wake pretty quick," the Indian replied. "She tell you."