CHAPTER X
FLIGHT
Upon the following morning, Murray was at the printing establishment watching Bill Hobbs and his human derelict swear at each other, when Piute Tomkins beckoned him outside to the street.
Piute stood there, ostentatiously fingered a burnished deputy's star which adorned his sun-faded vest, twirled his melancholy mustache and spoke.
"Doc, the pris'ner wants to see ye."
"Prisoner? What prisoner?"
"Your partner, Mac."
"Good lord!" Murray stared blankly at him. "You don't mean he's—arrested?"
"Certain."
"On what charge?"