"It's a good idee—I'd do a lot of it," advised the sheriff. "An' then, when I'd done a lot of it, I'd do some more—just to be sure I wasn't bitin' off more than I could chew!"
Warden left the sheriff's office, after turning the bodies of Link and Givens over to the official. He sent his men to the Two Diamond, and spent some time at a window in the rear of the Wolf Saloon, examining hoof prints on the snow in the vicinity of the Willets Hotel, a short distance from the Wolf. He was in a vicious mood.
He noted that the three sets of tracks he had followed led to the rear of the hotel. They were clear and distinct, for no other tracks were near them. His men and himself had evidently been the first to reach town after the storm had abated—excepting the riders whose tracks he had followed.
He was still at the window when he heard a step behind him, and saw Singleton approaching.
Singleton's eyes were gleaming with knowledge. He was breathing fast.
"I met the boys, headin' for the Two Diamond," he said. "They tell me Lawler downed Link an' Givens—an' that Lawler caught 'em cuttin' the fence. An' Colter says he was ridin' with you an' that you was followin' them tracks that led to town from that Circle L line cabin. Well, that was a hot trail, Warden. She's there—in the hotel!"
"Who?" demanded Warden, his face paling, though he was convinced that what Singleton would tell him would merely confirm his suspicions.
"Della Wharton!" declared Singleton. He related what he had seen the night before from the stable in the rear of the Wolf; and he stood tense and stiff behind Warden as the latter glared out of the window, his lips in a bestial pout.
Warden spoke at last, his voice dry and light and vibrant with cold fury.
"No women, Singleton; he told me he'd kill me if I dragged any of his women into this deal. And now——"