“But it ain’t murder to kill a rustler, is it?� Froud asked eagerly. “It ain’t! I could get a reward fer doin’ it, couldn’t I? He’s wanted! The police in three states want him! So if I show you his body I get the reward, don’t I? Don’t I?�
Mr. Manley looked at him.
“Froud,� he said slowly, “I seen some snakes in my time. At least, till now I thought I had. I can’t blame that bucker for shootin’ you. Too bad he wasn’t a better shot. Froud, listen to this! Brand ain’t dead! He’s alive, an’ he’s lookin’ for you!�
Froud’s face went livid. He swayed in his saddle.
“He—he—ain’t dead?â€� he stammered. “But—I—â€�
“You tried your best! But it wasn’t quite good enough, an’ my boys here saved his life. He got to that cabin of yours, an’ Roy an’ Teddy bound up his wound. He told everything, an’ he’ll be in the saddle again in two weeks. Froud, you’re a marked man!�
The rustler caught at the saddle horn. He trembled as though with the ague, and wet his lips with his tongue. He strove to speak, but the words would not come.
“Save ’em,� Nick Looker said in a contemptuous voice. “You might need later all the talk you got. Come on now! Ride on! We ain’t got all night. All right, boss? Do we go?�
“We go, Nick! An’ don’t worry about watchin’ Froud. If he starts to fall off, you might prop him back on again. Boys, we’re off! We’re headin’ home with a rare cargo! Let’s go!�
The procession of horsemen filed into the yard of the X Bar X just as the gray dawn was breaking. On all but four of the riders were happy grins. One of these four sagged low in the saddle. Frequently his tongue ran over his dry lips. And on the side of his face a scar, like a small snake, shone livid against his sickly pallor.