“All right.” Robin nodded to Sam Connors. That individual moved up beside Thatcher.
“You’re under arrest by a qualified officer,” he said pleasantly. “We’ll treat you nice, an’ have you safe in jail at Fort Benton inside of twenty-four hours. So behave yourself.”
“Listen,” Robin addressed his crew. “You’ve heard his yarn. It’s true. I’ve been up against this for a year. Keep your mouths shut tight about all this until you’re called in court as witnesses. Shinin’ Mark won’t be as easy to handle as this fellow. Now, two of you ride, one on each side of him, to camp.”
They moved off in a cavalcade. Sam Connors fell in beside Robin, looking curiously at him.
“If he hadn’t weakened would you ’a’ hung him?” he asked at last.
“I don’t know,” Robin answered truthfully. “Maybe. But he did weaken.”
“You had me guessin’,” Connors observed. “I couldn’t hardly ’a’ stood for a lynchin’. Did you figure he’d squeal when you made that hangin’ play?”
“Yes,” Robin admitted. “That’s why I made it. I’ve got ’em both dead to rights now. Next thing is to round up Shinin’ Mark Steele. Then this range’ll be clean once more.”
CHAPTER XXV
SNIPPED THREADS
On a little hillock that gave a clear view all around Robin pulled up his horse. He rode alone. Now of all times he must be wary. Thatcher had failed. If Steele knew Thatcher had not only failed but had confessed his sins to save his neck, he would certainly be in the mood to take a desperate chance. He might be riding the hills on the same errand as Thatcher. So Robin looked well from all the high ground and rode fast in the low places. There was no shame in being cautious. A second bullet might not simply graze him.