David suddenly jumped to his feet and announced his conclusion, as if he had discovered a plan. “That’s the first step. I’m goin’ to try it. I’m goin’ on in with you and talk to these men. Goliath, ain’t you got any cawfy made for the sheriff? You don’t reckon he’s goin’ away sayin’ that all we give him to drink was water, do you?”
All through the sheriff’s repast the three discussed plans; but when the sheriff rode away the little red-headed man accompanied him, walking alongside the horse and clinging to a latigo, or taking turns at riding until they could reach a place where an additional mount could be secured. And it was late in the evening when the sheriff and the miner, fellow conspirators in a good cause, rode through the shaded street of the county seat and parted company in front of the hotel.
“It’s up to you now, Dave,” said the sheriff, bending from his saddle and staring across at the lighted shop windows on the opposite side. “Of course, you mustn’t tell ’em that I’m in on this. I’m supposed to be hot and anxious to get any old goat that drags a gun in this country. Sabe?”
“Um-m-huh,” David replied. “If I have any luck you’ll get word to-morrow mornin’ that all charges is withdrawn. And then it’s up to that old skinflint, Hy Newport, to begin his court business. That’s right, ain’t it?”
“That’s the way of it,” said the sheriff. “So long.”
“So long,” said David, and muttered to himself, “There goes one good sheriff what gets my vote every time he runs!”
He found the two engineers in the hotel lobby, and decided that they were real human beings. Moreover, fortunately for his mission, they appeared to be in good humor and were laughing at something which was being told them by their companion, who proved to be a mine owner with whom both Dave and Goliath were friends.
“Old Tom Darrow,” said David to himself, sliding toward his prey, and then to his astonishment he heard Darrow exclaim, “There’s one of ’em now. Dave, come over here and meet a couple of friends of mine.”
The moment was opportune, and David had never been accused of being dilatory in action.
“Mighty glad to meet you,” he said, accepting a proffered chair. “In fact, I came clear down here from the hills to see you. It’s about old Uncle Bill Harmon—Old Harmless, they call him.”