“Those are the orders of the King, are they?” Burns flushed darkly. “It ain’t going to do you any good to talk that way. You know mighty well this here man with you is Bannister. I ain’t going to take no chances on losing him now I’ve got my hand on him.” “Y’u ce’tainly deserve a re-election, and I’ll bet y’u get it all right. Any man so given over to duty, so plumb loaded down to the hocks with conscience as y’u, will surely come back with a big majority next November.” “I ain’t askin’ for _your_ vote, Mac.” “Oh, y’u don’t need votes. Just get the King to O. K. your nomination and y’u’ll win in a walk.” “My friend, y’u better mind your own business. Far as I can make out y’u got troubles enough of your own,” retorted the nettled sheriff. “Y’u don’t need to tell me that, Tom Burns’ Y’u ain’t a man—nothing but a stuffed skin worked by a string. When that miscreant Bannister pulls the string y’u jump. He’s jerked it now, so y’u’re taking us back to him. I can prove that coyote Morgan shot at me first, but that doesn’t cut any ice with you.” “What made you light out so sudden, then?” demanded the aggrieved Burns triumphantly. “Because I knew _you_. That’s a plenty good reason. I’m not asking anything for myself. All I say is that my friend isn’t fit to travel yet. Let him stay here under a guard till he is.” “He was fit enough to get here. By thunder, he’s fit to go back!” “Y’u’ve said enough, Mac,” broke in Bannister. “It’s awfully good of y’u to speak for me, but I would rather see it out with you to a finish. I don’t want any favors from this yellow dog of my cousin.” The “yellow dog” set his teeth and swore vindictively behind them. He was already imagining an hour when these insolent prisoners of his would sing another tune. CHAPTER XVIII. PLAYING FOR TIME “They’ve got ’em. Caught them on Dry Creek, just below Green Forks.” Helen Messiter, just finishing her breakfast at the hotel preparatory to leaving in her machine for the ranch, laid down her knife and fork and looked with dilated eyes at Denver, who had broken in with the news. “Are you sure?” The color had washed from her face and left her very white, but she fronted the situation quietly without hysterics or fuss of any kind. “Yes, ma’am. They’re bringing them in now to jail. Watch out and y’u’ll see them pass here in a few minutes. Seems that Bannister’s wound opened up on him and he couldn’t go any farther. Course Mac wouldn’t leave him. Sheriff Burns and his posse dropped in on them and had them covered before Mac could chirp.” “You are sure this man—this desperado Bannister—will do nothing till night?” “Not the way I figure it. He’ll have the jail watched all day. But he’s got to work the town up to a lynching. I expect the bars will be free for all to-day. By night the worst part of this town will be ready for anything. The rest of the citizens are going to sit down and do nothing just because it is Bannister.”