Sagebrush gazed after him with sober mirth.
"Too bad ye got took in," he observed. "But I'm right glad ye take it calm, pilgrim. If ye didn't get bit too deep, ye got a fine place right here. Me, I like to git farther away from settlements—too many folks around spoil the desert. But if ye like this here oasis, she ain't bad. Say, if you're a doctor, wisht ye'd look at that there Jenny burro o' mine. She ain't been right peart for two-three days; kind o' down on her feed. Ye might light right on what she needed——"
Murray assented and strolled over to the burro in the train of Sagebrush. The whimsical irony of it struck him full; Douglas Murray, peer of the finest surgeons in the land, giving advice upon a sick burro! But he gave the advice, and grinned as he watched the aged desert rat shuffle off down the valley with his animals.
Sagebrush wended his way down the valley in patient tolerance of sun and sand. But of a sudden he wakened to the startling fact that his name was being called; amazedly, he peered up at the hillsides, shaded his eyes with his hand, and descried the figure of Deadoak Stevens approaching, carefully leading one of Piute's cayuses down the rocky descent.
An hour afterward, Deadoak was riding up to the shack in the valley, with a fine appearance of just finishing the end of a toilsome journey. A meeting with Sagebrush had afforded him a plan of campaign. He observed Murray sitting before the shack cleaning a revolver, and dismounted with a cheerful greeting; his cheerful expression vanished quickly, however, when Murray pointed the revolver at him and rose, blazing with wrath.
"So you've come to the scene of your crime, Deadoak! Put those hands up—that's right! And stand still—don't back away; you've nowhere to back."
"Wh-what's the matter?" stammered the paralyzed Deadoak.
"The matter?" repeated Murray. "You know! You've defrauded honest men, and now you're going to settle up. If you've any last words to say, say 'em quick! My finger's trembling on the trigger. Tonight you'll be reposing under that tree; we're here alone, Deadoak Stevens, and you shall perish at the hands of the man whom you——"
Deadoak trembled, and his jaw sagged.
"Say!" he croaked. "I—I—honest, now, I come out here to square things up! I heard that Mac was lookin' for ruby silver—them samples was a mistake! Piute said he'd put 'em in with Hassayamp's stuff one time. I rid here to——"