“I know how yuh feel, Skeeter Bill. God put a spark of something into all of us—a spark that flares up once in a while. It will build a big flame for you—if you’ll let it.”
“That’s right, judge,” said Skeeter, staring into the darkness and rain, speaking aloud, but all unconscious of it. “Mebbe this is my spark workin’. Bein’ a murderer don’t set me free, old-timer. Yuh can’t lie to yourself and get away with it.”
Swinging the sheriff’s unconscious body up in his arms, he stumbled away through the brush, going by instinct for the higher ground, while behind him the river roared as if in anger at being cheated.
Kales’ men did not long dispute with the Tin Cup gang. The game was not worth the candle to them, as they did not intend to battle for a chance to hold up the train, and also they did not know who the Tin Cup gang were.
While they believed that Roper Bates had talked too much and had given away the secret of the big gold shipment, the Tin Cup gang fought to keep any one from stopping them from taking Skeeter Bill off the train. Jimmy Longhair had heard the sheriff tell Skeeter that he was to leave very soon, and, with the gang planted near the bridge, Jimmy had watched the back door of the jail and had seen Skeeter and Freel come out.
“Monk” Clark, the owner of the Tin Cup, had sworn to “get” Skeeter Bill, and Monk was no idle boaster; but he did not reckon on interference.
The train was into them and lurching back against the reversed engine before they knew just what damage they had suffered; but Monk rallied his men and swung into the train, as it stopped on the last remaining arch of the bridge, with the pilot of the engine almost hanging out over the flood.
When Monk boarded the rear car, it was only to find that Skeeter Bill and the sheriff had gone overboard and that Jimmy Longhair and Benny Harper were down and out from the sheriff’s six-shooter.
Things were looking extremely bad for the Tin Cup gang, and Monk lost no time in herding his men off the train, leaving their wounded. The train backed off the bridge and stopped, but the Tin Cup gang were already mounting and riding away. There was no question in the mind of Monk Clark that Skeeter Bill and Freel had died in the flood.