But further bickering was prevented by the doctor. At this moment he rose almost to the greatness which his associates claimed for him. Bitter as his feelings were at thus openly being defied and flouted, he refused to blind himself to the justness of the other’s plea. He even acquiesced with a decent grace, although he refused––as Jim knew he would––to change his own opinions.
“Hit your trail, boy,” he cried, in his large, harsh voice. “Guess you sure got the rights of a free citizen, an’––good luck.”
He rode off; and Smallbones, with a venomous glance back at the triumphant Jim, started across the river. Jim remounted his horse and rode off down the river. He glanced back at the retreating party with the doctor, and sighed his relief. He felt as though he had been passing through a lifetime of crime, and ahead lay safety.
He did not attempt to push his tired horse faster than a walk, but continued on until he came to the woods, where he knew Will had sought shelter; then he off-saddled. He had no intention of proceeding farther until sundown.
He thanked his stars that he had read Doc Crombie aright. He would never have dared to bluff a lesser man than he.
And then, having seated himself for rest under a bush, his last waking thoughts were black with the despair of an honest man who has finally and voluntarily made it impossible to prove his own innocence.