“Sheriff you're on a cold trail,” said Haines. “Inside that house is just a heart-broken girl and her baby. If you want to see them—go ahead!”
“She might know something,” mused the sheriff, “and I s'pose I'd ought to pry it out of her right now: but I don't care for that sort of pickin's.” He repeated softly: “A girl and a baby!” and turned on his heel. “All right, boys, climb your hosses. Two of you take Mat. We'll bury him where we put Harry. I guess we can pack him that far.”
“How's that?” This from Haines. “One of your gang dropped?”
“He is.”
They followed him and stood presently beside the body. Aside from the red mark in the forehead he seemed asleep, and smiling at some pleasant dream; a handsome fellow in the strength of first manhood, this man who was the second to die for Grey Molly.
“It's the end of Dan Barry,” said Buck. “Lee, we'll never have Whistlin' Dan for a friend again. He's wild for good.”
The sheriff turned and eyed him closely.
“He's got to come back,” said Haines. “He's got to come back for the sake of Kate.”
“He'd better be dead for the sake of Kate,” answered Buck.
“Why, partner, this isn't the first time he's gone wild.”