“No; for having so much the start of you, and a good animal, he will soon leave all pursuit behind him.  There is a plan which I have been thinking of, and which will be the very thing, if at once acted upon.  You know the sheriff, Maxson, lives on the same road; you must take two of the men with you, pick fresh and good horses, set off to Maxson’s at once with a letter which I shall give you, and he will make you special deputies for the occasion of this young man’s arrest.  I have arranged it so that the suspicion shall take the shape of a legal warrant, sufficient to authorize his arrest and detention.  The proof of his offence will be matter of after consideration.”

“But will Maxson do this—­may he not refuse?  You know he has been once before threatened with being brought up for his leaning toward us, in that affair of the Indian chief, Enakamon.”

“He can not—­he dare not refuse!” said the outlaw, rising impatiently.  “He holds his place and his life at my disposal, and he knows it.  He will not venture to refuse me!”

“He has been very scrupulous of late in all his dealings with us, you know, and has rather kept out of our way.  Besides that, he has been thorough-going at several camp-meetings lately, and, when a man begins to appear over-honest, I think it high time he should be looked after by all parties.”

“You are right, Dillon, you are right.  I should not trust it to paper either.  I will go myself.  But you shall along with me, and on the way I will put you in a train for bringing out certain prisoners whom it is necessary that we should secure before the sitting of the court, and until it is over.  They might be foolish enough to convict themselves of being more honest than their neighbors, and it is but humane to keep them from the commission of an impropriety.  Give orders for the best two of your troop, and have horses saddled for all four of us.  We must be on the road.”

Dillon did as directed, and returned to the conference, which was conducted, on the part of his superior, with a degree of excitation, mingled with a sharp asperity of manner, something unwonted for him in the arranging of any mere matter of business.

“Maxson will not refuse us; if he do, I will hang him by my saddle-straps.  The scoundrel owes his election to our votes, and shall he refuse us what we ask?  He knows his fate too well to hesitate.  And then, Dillon, when you have his commission for the arrest of this boy, spare not the spur:  secure him at all hazards of horseflesh or personal inconvenience.  He will not resist the laws, or anything having their semblance; nor, indeed, has he any reason—­”

“No reason, sir! why, did you not say he had killed Forrester?” inquired his companion.