“Well what didyou come back for?” demanded the Widow, triumphantly. “You must have figured to win somewhere.”
“Yes, I did,” sighed Wiley, “but I was badly mistaken. All I want now is to get out of town.”
“Well, how about your father? That offer he made me! Has he backed out on that, too?”
“No, he hasn’t,” answered Wiley, “my father 57keeps his word. You can get your money any time.”
“Well, of all the crazy crooked deals,” the Widow began to rave, and then Wiley grabbed for the shotgun.
“It may be crazy!” he shouted savagely, “but believe me, it isn’t crooked. My father never did a crooked thing in his life, and you know it as well as I do; and if it wasn’t that you’re such a crook yourself─”
“Wiley Holman!” raged the Widow, but he rose up on his crutch and shouldered his way out the door.
“You’re crazy!” he yelled, “the whole danged town’s crazy. All except old Charley and me.”
He jerked his head and winked at Charley as he hobbled towards the street and Death Valley nodded gravely. There was a long, hateful silence; then the great motor roared out and the white racer rushed away across the desert.
“Well, I don’t care!” declared the Widow as she gazed after his dust and when the stage went out that day it took a lady passenger to Vegas.