"By the Lord," growled Dunbar, "you're a plain bad one, Riley. You like deviltry for the sake of the deviltry itself. You want me to get—"
"How much do you want the black hoss, chief?" Dunbar sighed.
"You can't touch him, after him saving your life, and I can't touch him, because everybody knows that I'm your man. But suppose you get the girl and Hunter planted? Then when Jack Hood rides in this afternoon, I'll take him where he can see 'em together. Leave the rest to me. Will you? I'll have Jack Hood scared she's going to elope before morning, and Jack will do the rest. You know his way."
"Suppose Hood gets killed?"
"Killed—by that? Jack Hood? Why, you know he's near as good as you with his gat!"
Dunbar nodded slowly. After all, the scheme was a simple one.
"Well?" whispered Riley.
"You and the devil win," said Hal. "After all, what's this Hunter amount to? Nothing. And I need the horse!"
He executed the first step of the scheme instantly. He went downstairs and found the girl still on the veranda. She began to mock him at once.
"You'll go to heaven, Hal, giving a home to the man who beats you."