“That’s another reason for you to get Bard, eh?  Well, I can’t send you after him, Nash.  That’s final.”

“Not a bit.  I know too much about you, Glendin.”

The glance of the other raised slowly, fixed on Nash, and then lowered to the floor.  He produced papers and Durham, rolled and lighted his cigarette, and inhaled a long puff.

“So that’s the game, Steve?”

“I hate to do it.”

“Let that go.  You’ll run the limit on this?”

“Listen, Glendin.  I’ve got to get this Bard.  He’s out-ridden me, out-shot me, out-gamed me, out-lucked me, out-guessed me—­and taken Sally.  He’s mine.  He b’longs all to me.  D’you see that?”

“I’m only seein’ one thing just now.”

“I know.  You think I’m double-crossin’ you.  Maybe I am, but I’m desperate, Glendin.”

“After all,” mused the deputy, “you’d be simply doin’ work I’d have to do later.  You’re right about this Bard.  He’ll never be taken alive.”

“Good ol’ Glendin.  I knew you’d see light.  I’ll go out and get the boys I want in ten minutes.  Wait here.  Shorty and Doc Young will come in a minute.  One thing more:  when you get to Drew’s place you’ll find him actin’ queer.”

“What about?”

“I dunno why.  It’s a bad mess.  You see, he’s after this Bard himself, the way I figure it, and he wants him left alone.  He’d raise hell if he knew a posse was after the tenderfoot.”

“Drew’s a bad one to get against me.”

“I know.  You think I’m double-crossin’?”

“I’ll do it.  But this squares all scores between us, Steve?”

“Right.  It leaves the debt on my side, and you know I’ve never dodged an I.O.U.  Drew may talk queer.  He’ll tell you that Bard done all that work in self-defence.”

“Did he?”

“The point is he killed a man and stole a hoss.  No matter what comes of it, he’s got to be arrested, don’t he?”

“And shot down while ‘resistin’ arrest’?  Steve, I’d hate to have you out for me like this.”

“But you won’t listen to Drew?”

“Not this one time.  But, Lord, man, I hate to face him if he’s on the warpath.  Who’ll you take with you?”

“Shorty, of course.  He was Calamity Ben’s pal.  The rest will be—­don’t laugh—­Butch Conklin and his gang.”

“Butch!”

“Hold yourself together.  That’s what I mean—­Butch Conklin.”

“After you dropped him the other night?”

“Self-defence, and he knows it.  I can find Butch, and I can make him go with me.  Besides, he’s out for Bard himself.”

The deputy said with much meaning:  “You can do a lot of queer things, Nash.”

“Forget it, Glendin.”

“I will for a while.  D’you really think I can let you take out Butch and his gunmen ag’in’ Bard?  Why, they’re ten times worse’n the tenderfoot.”

“Maybe, but there’s nothin’ proved ag’in’ ’em—­nothin’ but a bit of cattle-liftin’, maybe, and things like that.  The point is, they’re all hard men, and with ’em along I can’t help but get Bard.”