Lying beside him was Burk, the deputy marshal, his greenish-gray eyes looking coldly at the house, and whenever he saw a chance for a shot his rifle flew to his shoulder.
He became conscious that Ted was looking at him, and turned with a grin on his face.
"So we got you at last, eh?" he said to Ted, with a sneer. "You thought you could put this thing through because you are a deputy United States marshal, did you? Well, you won't be a marshal much longer."
"I think I'll be longer at the job than you will," Ted replied slowly.
"Not after your attempt to loot a dead woman's house while her body still lies there under guard of a United States officer."
This caused Ted to think of the situation in a different light. True, he believed that Burk was a crook, and that it was he who was conspiring to rob the house, but he had authority on his side, while Ted's belief, after all, was based on surmise, and he would have difficulty in proving anything criminal against the marshal. At the same time, he did not fear for his own part in the affair, because behind him was the brother of the dead woman.
"I say, Burk, I'm tired of this nonsense, lying here and potting away at the house," said a drawling voice, the owner of which could not be seen, being hidden behind the shrubbery.
"Can't help it," answered Burk. "We've got to take our time. The house is full of them, and they can shoot some."
"Rot! So can we. I propose that we rush them. But first I want the pleasure of putting my revolver against the head of that young bully there and the girl, and getting rid of them. Think what's at stake. We must get away from here soon."
"Don't talk nonsense," growled Burk, in reply.