She raised her head and looked at him out of startled eyes in which there was a ray of hope.
“You say––he won’t––worry me–––”
“Not at all, girlie. He walked into his own trap. I’m goin’, girlie. So long, an’ good luck.”
He took her hand and pressed it, and under the spell of his smile the hope came into her welling eyes.
“Good-by,” he called from the doorway.
She was smiling faintly through her tears when he slipped out.
Deputy Sheriff Mannix was sitting in his little office alone. It was nearly sunset. A faint glow of crimson shot across the carpet.
Mannix was scowling thoughtfully. On the desk before him were two pieces of paper. One of them was a reward notice publishing the fact that The Coyote was wanted and that five thousand dollars would be paid by the State of Arizona for his capture, dead or alive.
Mannix picked up the second piece of paper and again read the words penciled upon it: