Alpaugh started, but recovered himself. "Dead? Was he one of them? Well, you know he's always had a fishy reputation."
"He was wounded by the express messenger. Lived long enough to make a full confession."
"Who?" asked Alpaugh, trying to appear unconcerned.
"Hold up your hands, Dick. Don't make trouble. I've got to arrest you."
Limber controlled his amazement, and in obedience to a nod from Graham, removed the pistol from Alpaugh's hip pocket. Then Graham told his prisoner he might put down his hands.
The constable laughed in amusement. "Well, I might get mad if it wasn't all so darned foolish. I can't figure out whether you are off your cabeza, Tom, or if it was Three-fingered Jack trying to get back at me because I arrested him once." His voice dropped and his face grew serious. "I don't want my wife to know this. It's all a big mistake and you'll find it out later on; but I don't want her to worry. You've got to do your duty, Tom, so I haven't any hard feelings against you or Limber. I'd like to make an excuse to Jennie about going away, if you don't mind."
"All right. Don't stir up trouble, Dick; that's all," warned Graham.
"It's too silly to make any row over," Alpaugh answered with open contempt as he walked to the hall door and called to his wife, "I've got to go out of town at once, Jennie. Graham wants me. There's been a hold-up near Cochise. Don't get worried if I'm gone several days. I won't need any war-bag. Be back as soon as I can make it."
Mrs. Alpaugh was a plump, quick body, with brown eyes, brown skin, smooth brown hair and alert way of cocking her head on one side, much like an impudent sparrow. She came on the porch and smiled at them.
"I might as well be an old maid," she pouted. "Dick is away nearly all the time, lately."