“No?” Cates lifted his eyebrows slightly. “Perhaps some of the stories I’ve heard were not true.”
“They hardly ever are,” seriously. “No, you’ve got me wrong, Cates. Never in my life did I go out and get a man who was wanted by the law—never took a man with a price on his head. That’s a job for a sheriff or a policeman.”
“Well, maybe that’s true, Hartley. There’s a nice reward for Joe Rich. Means about thirty-five hundred dollars.”
“I don’t want it,” said Hashknife flatly.
“Don’t want it?” Cates laughed huskily. “You’re a queer bird, Hartley. Ain’t you interested in putting criminals behind the bars?”
“Not a damned bit. Don’t believe in the ‘eye for an eye’ theory. Never put a man behind the bars that I didn’t wish it hadn’t happened.”
“Do yuh mean to say that you never collected a reward?” asked Kelsey.
“Never.”
Kelsey laughed shortly.
“You must be pretty rich to turn down good money. Cates has told me that you and yore pardner have cleaned up a lot of bad-man outfits, and there’s usually a reward for a bad man.”