Six crestfallen cow-punchers returned from the La Monte place. No one knew when the man had left the camp, no one had even caught a glimpse of him. His clothes they had found in the well.
The Sheriff and his posse came at last. Steve kept his hand on the arm of La Monte as they approached the wagon. It was a tense moment; we were all watching but hidden, fearful lest some trifle would arouse the demon of violence. The men were all armed.
La Monte put his foot up on the step of the wagon, then took it off, shook his head, turned and walked toward the granary. We held our breath. Steve alone followed him.
“Come on; you’re going with me, aren’t you?”
There was no reply. With his eyes fixed on the ground La Monte ignored Steve completely. Suddenly he stopped and picked up something, the little cotton-wood switch to which the leaves still clung. Holding it tightly, he walked back to the wagon, got in, Steve by his side, and they drove off.
They were scarcely out of sight when Charley came dashing up with sixty dollars in gold which he had found under a pile of mud at the La Monte place. Owen sent him to overtake the wagon.
“Is this yours?” Charley asked, as he rode up to them, holding the money out toward La Monte, who only shook his head and looked off across the prairie. Charley turned the money over to Steve.
When they reached the town, La Monte seemed to become confused and suspicious. He would not speak. He was judged insane and committed to the asylum. Still in charge of the Sheriff, Steve and two other men, he was put on the train.
“Where did you get him?” the conductor asked the Sheriff.