“Why don’t you tell me to go git him?” queried Cheyenne, looking the marshal in the eye.

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” said the marshal.

“What?  To git him?”

The marshal smiled.  Then casually:  “I hear that Panhandle and his friends are drinking heavy and spending considerable money.  They must have made a strike, somewhere.”

“I see by the paper somebody run off a bunch of the Box-S hosses,” remarked Cheyenne, also casually.

Then, without further comment, he left the marshal wondering if Panhandle’s presence in town had any connection with the recent running-off of the Box-S stock.  The sheriff of Antelope had wired Colonel Stevenson to be on the lookout for Bill Sneed and his gang, but had not mentioned Panhandle’s name in the telegram.

The following day, Senator Brown and his foreman, Lon Pelly, arrived in Phoenix and had a long talk with the marshal.  That afternoon Lon Pelly took the train south.  Early in the evening Senator Brown received a telegram from Pelly stating that Sneed and four men had left Tucson, headed north and riding horses.

The stolen horses had been trailed south as far as Phoenix.  It was evident that they had been driven to Tucson and disposed of somewhere in that vicinity.  Yet there was no conclusive proof that Sneed had stolen the horses.  As usual, he had managed to keep a few days ahead of his pursuers.  Sneed was known to have left his camp in the hills above San Andreas.  The first posse had found the camp abandoned.  Sneed had not been identified until Pelly got track of him in Tucson.

During his talk with Senator Brown the marshal mentioned the fact that Panhandle Sears was in Phoenix.

“Did Panhandle come in from the south?” queried the Senator.

“Nobody seems to know.”

“Well, if he did, we have got the link that’s missing in this chain, Colonel.  Pelly is holdin’ one end of the chain down in Tucson, and the other end is layin’ right here in Phoenix.  If we can connect her up—­”

“But we haven’t located the horses, Senator.”

“Colonel, I’ll find those horses if I can.  But I’m after Sneed, this journey.  He has been running things about ten years too long to suit me.  I’ve got a check-book with me.  You have the men.  I’m out to do a little housecleanin’ of my own.  If we can get Panhandle to talk, we can find out something.”

“He’s been on a drunk for a week.  I could run him in for disturbing the peace and—­”

“And he’d suspect what we’re after and freeze up, tight.  No, let him run loose, but keep your eye on him.  He’ll give the deal away, sooner or later.”

“I hope it’s sooner,” said the Colonel.  “Cheyenne is holed up down the street, waiting for a chance to get Sears.  Cheyenne didn’t say so, but it was in his eye.  He’s changed considerable since I saw him last.”

“Was there any one with him:  a tall, dark-haired, kind of clean-cut boy, for instance?”