"I understand," said Peter. "This is 'what you've got and what I've got' referred to in the placard."
"Yes," said McGuire. "A partnership agreement and a confession—of something I didn't do."
Peter's eyes were searching him through and through.
"You swear it?"
McGuire held up his right hand and met Peter's gaze without flinching.
"Before God, I do."
Peter was silent for a moment, thinking.
"And then, you left Hawk Kennedy there to die," he said slowly, watching the man.
McGuire sank into his chair with a sigh, the perspiration now beaded on his pale forehead.
"I didn't know what to do, I tell you," he almost whispered. "He had me. I was unarmed. I'd 'a' killed him if I'd had a gun. But I waited a few days after we buried Cameron—makin' believe I was satisfied with everything and he believed me, and at last he fell asleep tired with keepin' watch on me. He was all in. I bored holes in Ben Cameron's barrels, lettin' the water out down the rocks, then took the three horses and the mules with all the water that was left and got away before he woke up.