Bud reached his hand towards Bill. "I’ve shown you my hand fair and square—man to man—now I’ll thank you for that gun." But Bill, who caught sight of Jim coming through the corral, said, "That’s up to Mr. Carston, and here he is." Bud turned sharply. He would have preferred to meet Jim some other time, but it was too late to retreat now. Bill went to Jim. "Hello," he said. He decided to blurt out the whole affair to Jim at once. He knew then that the squaw would be safe; the boss would see to that. "Mr. Carston," he began, "our amusin’ little friend over there is a-contemplatin’ of arrestin’ Nat-u-ritch for the killin’ of Cash Hawkins." "Oh no; you must be joking," Jim said to Bud, too worn out to give vent to the anger that began to surge through him. Bill was relieved at the light manner in which Jim seemed to take the news. "Well, that’s what I thought, but he takes himself kind of serious." Furiously came Bud’s next words. "Anyway, I’ve got evidence to arrest her." Showing the revolver to Jim, Bill contemptuously added, "And which said Sheriff steals out of the house of said trustin’ and confidin’ friend." Jim stared in amazement at the revolver. Yes, it was Nat-u-ritch’s. He had never looked at it since that day at Maverick when her hand had saved him from the cowardly attack of Cash Hawkins. He did not speak. Bud moved closer to him. He pointed to Bill. "And which he said belonged to Nat-u-ritch." Triumphantly he pointed also to Clarke to indicate that he had him as a witness. Jim motioned Bill to the house. "Put that revolver back where it belongs," he said, and Bill obeyed. Bud darted forward as though to stop Bill. "I demand the custody of that myself, Mr. Carston." "Let’s understand each other, Sheriff." As he spoke, Jim deliberately blocked Bud’s way. "Nat-u-ritch is as innocent of wrong as a bird that flies. It wouldn’t do to confine her in that dirty little jail in Jansen. It would be murder." "You’re a law-abiding citizen, Mr. Carston. You ain’t agoin’ to resist the law?" But Jim stood firm in front of the cabin door. "There are cases, Sheriff, where justice is superior to the law, and the white man’s court is a bad place for justice to the Indian. Fortunately for all of us, Nat-u-ritch has disappeared." As Jim spoke, Bud realized that if the Indian woman were there Carston would not be so calm. "But you couldn’t arrest her, Sheriff—not while I live. Bill"—he turned to the foreman, who came out of the house—"I’m not in a mood to discuss this with Sheriff Hardy, and I don’t want to violate the laws of hospitality. But just one word, Sheriff—you’ve eaten my bread, slept under my roof, and now you sneak into my house to get evidence against the mother of my boy." Jim hesitated, and then as he left them he quietly finished, "Bill, I think you’d better see the Sheriff safely on his way." And Bud knew that for the time being he had lost his game. *CHAPTER XXV*