“Well, you’ve got me beat to a rag. I——”
“The same as I have Fyles. But say——”
Charlie broke off, and his smile vanished.
“Maybe I’m a crook. Maybe I’m anything you, or anybody else likes to call me. There’s one thing I’m not. I’m no bluff. You know of that cupboard in that shack. The thought’s poison to me. If any other man had found it, he wouldn’t be alive now to listen to me. Do you understand me? Forget it. Forget you ever saw it. If you dream of it, fancy it’s a nightmare and—turn over. Bill, I solemnly swear that I’ll shoot the man dead, on sight, who gives that away, or dares to look inside it. Now, we’ll get away from here.”
He sprang into the saddle and waited while his brother mounted. Then he held out his hand.
“Do you get me?” he asked.
Bill nodded, and took the outstretched hand in solemn compact.
“What you say goes,” he said easily. “But your threat of shooting doesn’t worry me a little bit.”
He gathered up his reins and the two men rode out of the clearing.