Then, grinning like a mad wolf, the pain-racked boy slowly crumpled to the floor and lay still.
CHAPTER XXIX
OUT OF THE PAST
Three men straightened up and turned slowly away from a shot-riddled thing which also had been a man. Their gaze centered on another motionless form a few feet away, its thin hands still clutched around a battered old muzzle-loader. Beside that silent figure knelt an anxious-eyed girl, down whose shoulders hung disordered red hair.
“Well,” said Ward in business-like tones, “this is what I call a good clean-up. The quicker a snake gits killed the better. This one’s as dead as they make ’em, and the State won’t have to spend a nickel on givin’ him a trial and bumpin’ him off. Nor it won’t have to give this kid any more board and lodgin’ down the river. All we’ve got to do now is have you folks witness that confession, and then we’ll drift out and report. Sanders was shot resistin’ arrest, and Bill here done the shootin’. Ain’t that right, Bill?”
He winked at his burly partner. Bill grinned heavily and returned the wink.
“Yeah. That’s right. Killed by Officer William Moiphy in p’formance o’ dooty. I dunno if I hit him, but I shot and he croaked, and that’s good enough for the records. But what about the kid? Hadn’t we oughter take him out till they fix up the red tape down below?”
“Nope,” decisively. “We can fix that. Kid can’t travel anyway. Might kill him. We’ll leave him lay here and git better if he can. More’n that, I’m goin’ to send that Brackett woman’s doctor up here to tend to him. Charge the bill up to expenses. The State owes him that much, anyway. Now, sister, let’s have a look at him.”
As Ward stooped over the unconscious youth the girl drew back in instinctive distrust, one hand slipping toward the gun she had captured from Snake. The man gave her a look half-amused, half-warning. Douglas spoke soothingly.
“It’s all right, Marion. Maybe you didn’t notice what was said just now. Steve’s cleared, and Ward here is going to send in a doctor. These fellows are leaving—and so am I. Steve will be well soon, and then you two can get married, and—and—everything’s all right.”
Despite himself, his last words sounded hollow. He turned his gaze to the wan face of the wolf-boy, sombrely contemplating the sunken cheeks, the deep-rimmed eyes, all the painfully apparent ravages of privation and sickness. He did not observe the sudden amazement in the three other faces, which turned quickly to his; nor the ensuing tiny tremble of the girl’s lips.