“The sheriff is Dan Shattock,” replied Cottle. “He lives over to Fennel Gulch.”
“And how far is that from here?”
“About thirty-five or forty miles.”
“If I gave you a letter to him could you bring him back with the necessary papers?”
“Certainly. Only Dan will want pay in advance.”
“I will give you the hundred dollars that you have earned. You can pay him whatever is necessary, and I will pay you back with good interest. Come, I will write the letter without delay.”
“Yes, do,” said Oliver. “Colonel Mendix may smell a mouse and try to head us off ere long. He had not expected to be disturbed, but now you can rest assured he will be on his guard.”
Mr. Whyland sat down immediately to compose the letter. It was not a very long epistle, but it was just to the point. Oliver read it over and offered several suggestions that the other deemed valuable, and then the letter was folded and placed in Cottle’s hand.
“I’ll be off at once,” said the guide; and he mounted his mule.