“Look at that writing,” he said quietly.
The hand was unmistakably that of a woman of education.
“My sister,” he added, and shoved the letter into his pocket.
They rode some distance in silence and then––
“And I’m here,” John Ringo added in the same even voice. “She writes me regularly. Thinks I’m doing fine!”
He did not bring up the subject again; it was as if he had opened a curtain a little way and let it fall at once; 146 but the deputy, who came from good people himself, had been able to see much during that brief glimpse into the outlaw’s hidden life. And having seen those tangled threads he was able to understand certain matters all the better when the end came.
Now while Deputy Sheriff Breckenbridge and John Ringo were riding toward Tombstone things were brewing in that wild young mining camp. The law-and-order party was preparing to make a clean-up of the desperadoes.
And when the pair arrived the news went forth; the hour was late, but late hours meant little in those days of all-night gambling; a number of the leaders gathered in Bob Hatch’s saloon and discussed the situation. It looked promising, for Ringo was the brains of the bad men; with him in custody it should be easy to lay hands on Curly Bill, who was at the time over in the lawless town of Charleston on the San Pedro. They made their plans toward that end; and, just to make doubly sure, they arranged with the district attorney to see that Ringo should be kept in jail for at least twenty-four hours.
That was the situation when the pair arrived from no-man’s-land; there was no chance of getting bail at this time of night. The outlaw slept behind the bars; and when the morning came he sent for the lawyer who was always retained by the stock-rustlers, a criminal attorney by the name of Goodrich.
Goodrich brought news that the law-and-order party were preparing an expedition to Charleston to round up Curly Bill. Knowing the habits of his burly aide, John Ringo was reasonably sure that the crusaders would find 147 the latter the worse for whisky and bring him back a captive. His natural itching to depart from custody was aggravated by the feeling that his presence in the cow-town by the San Pedro was badly needed. He urged Goodrich to hurry to the bank and get the bail-money.