"You're under arrest, Miss Lee," he said. "So is Doctor Murray. That him yonder?"
"Arrest?" faltered the girl, shrinking in amazement and fear.
"Yep, complicity," said Piute. "The doc had a lot of opium in his room, and morphine—and you're helpin' him in his getaway! This here is the sheriff—Hennesy sent him over a-flyin'——"
"But—but it's impossible!" wailed the girl, anguish in her voice. "He's ill—he's had sunstroke! And he's never had any opium——"
The sheriff, who seemed to dislike his job, shook his head. "Sorry, Miss Lee, but we got the goods on him. My car broke down and we had to impress Bill Hobbs to bring us out here——"
At this instant another figure came into the rays of light from the car. It was Bill Hobbs.
"What's the matter, Miss Lee?" he demanded. "Where's the doc?"
"He's ill—he had to fix a tire and the sun made him ill," she said weakly. "These men are trying to arrest him and me—oh, it's ridiculous!"
"Gee!" breathed Willyum, staring from her to the recumbent figure beneath the blankets. Then he swung on the other two. "So that was why you had me run you out here, huh? Tryin' to make a pinch, huh? You kept darned quiet about it!"
"Enough for you," snapped the sheriff. "Get busy, and help carry that man——"