"Steve Gurley shot Ford because he couldn't be trusted. The kid talked about betrayin' us to Ellison. If Steve hadn't shot him I would have done it."
"But not in the back," said Jack.
"No need o' that. I could 'a' gunned him any time in a fair fight. We followed him, an' before I could stop him Gurley fired."
The line-rider turned to the jailer. "You heard what he said, Yorky."
"I ain't deef," replied the little saddler with sulky dignity. His shoulder was aching and he felt very much outraged.
"Ford Wadley was a bad egg if you want to know. He deserved just what he got," Dinsmore added.
"I don't care to hear about that. Yore horse is waitin', Dinsmore. Some one might come along an' ask inconvenient whyfors. Better be movin' along."
Dinsmore buckled the belt round his waist and picked up the rifle.
"Happy days," he said, nodding toward Jack, then turned and slouched out of the door.
A moment, and there came the swift clatter of hoofs.