"Is Maj. MacDonald in this?" Childress asked sharply, recalling the pleasant ride he had enjoyed with the veteran the morning of their first and only meeting.
"Not in the plant, I reckon, 'cause he's square and through with young love. But once he sees the evidence, you can bet your ace he'll be ready to shoot the lights out of you. 'Twas Tom Fitzrapp what planned the sanded deck."
"Could expect it of him," muttered the sergeant.
There was admiration in the grin that played about O'Hara's mouth once the pipe was removed.
"Say, pard, you're packin' a powerful heavy jag o' nerve to hole in here right under their noses," he declared. "I plumb admire to know you. But why did you make the doggie break of hobblin' yourself with that skirt?"
Childress' hand clamped upon O'Hara's lean shoulder roughly. "What do you mean by 'that' skirt?"
"Why the gal—the major's niece," said the range boss hastily, cringing under the clutch. "I mean the widow—Lady Ethel. Wasn't you wise that Fitzrapp had cut her out for hisself? I was scoutin' from the bluff the day she rid over here. Was too far away to recognize your face, and never havin' seen you bustin' broncs before I didn't know you by yore tricks. Not knowin' you was you, I spills it to his nibs about the girl's little excursion. If it hadn't been for that, I doubt if he'd have found the nerve to frame this on you. He's plumb set on marryin' the girl."
"Which he'll never do," Childress murmured under his breath. For O'Hara's benefit he forced a laugh. "Leave the woman out of this. If they're going to raid me in the morning, it's time I was getting shut of the evidence."
"I'll sit in that game and draw cards cheerful," declared O'Hara eagerly. "The old major has set me nursemaidin' colts and I'm plumb ready to quit. Here's a picked bunch of hawses, and I present them to you gratis. Bunch them up with your own and run them across the line. You can turn them over quick at Crow's Nest, and make a clean get-away. Hawse thieves ain't goin' to be folks in this here province for a spell.
"And what's more——" O'Hara hesitated, torn between his native greed and a desire to do a whole-souled, handsome thing in repaying the debt he owed. "And what's more," he resumed, with a leer for conquered avarice, "I'll help you drive them and ask nary a cut of the clean-up."