"Why not—if he thought he would get a reward?" came from Nat Potts, the youngest of the trio. "One thing is certain, Macklin is crazy to make money."
"I know a thing or two of Macklin's past—that's why," went on Gus Fetter. "If he got us into trouble I wouldn't keep silent about him, and he knows it."
"Macklin is slippery, no two ways about it," said Matt Gilroy, as he took off his jacket and wrung the water out. "I am not inclined to trust him, and that is all there is to it."
"Did he ever belong to the old gang?" questioned Nat Potts. "Some say he did, and some say he didn't."
"He was a hanger-on, that's all," came from Matt Gilroy. "He was always afraid to take the chances of being shot, but was on hand when the spoils were divided. They used him as a messenger and a spy, but I don't believe he ever really helped to hold up a coach."
"Humph, then it's a wonder the old crowd had anything to do with him!"
"Oh, they had to have messengers and spies, and they never gave Macklin more than was coming to him, you can bet on that! I understand that when the Riverton coach was held up six years ago, and the gang got twenty-two thousand dollars, they gave Macklin five hundred, and he was glad to get that."
"That was a big haul!" cried Nat Potts enthusiastically. "I wish I had been in it."
"The gang was followed for two days—by the soldiers under Colonel Fairfield," went on Matt Gilroy, as he threw himself on the rocks, leaving his companions to start up a fire. "They had a hot time of it over to Bear Pass, I can tell you. Two men were shot, and one of them, Dan Hickey, my old chum, died from his wounds. They say Colonel Fairfield himself fired the shot that took poor Hickey in the head, and if that's so—well, I've got an account to square with the colonel, that's all."
"You can square that after we've had our little interview with the quartermaster," returned Gus Fetter with a hard laugh.