"What do you mean by that?" he cried. "Haven't I got enough to torture me without——" He bit the words short, and glared.
"Take that other gun from your belt," commanded Matt, "and throw it away. You can't fool me, Bascomb! You're one of the Dangerfield gang. I don't think you intended going to Phœnix, but you're going now, whether you want to or not!"
Matt's voice was steady, and his gray eyes snapped in a way that meant business.
[CHAPTER XII.]
BOLIVAR TURNS UP.
"You're the last person in the world, King," said Bascomb, with more injury than hostility in his voice, "who ought to butt in on me like this. If you knew all——"
He stopped short and pursed up his lips. His gloomy face and haunted eyes were touched with sadness.
"I know enough to figure out that you're trying to fool me," said Matt. "The yarn you told me back there in the gap won't wash. It's my opinion, Bascomb, that you're no more of a deputy sheriff than I am. Anyhow, I'm going to take you to McKibben, in Phœnix, and give him a chance to pass judgment on you. That other gun, if you please."
Bascomb thought the matter over for a moment, then drew the revolver.