Swaying between the internes, his shriveled body held upright by a desperate effort of will, he fought for breath.

Pete raised on his elbow, his dark eyes wide.  “Spider!” he exclaimed.

The internes felt The Spider’s slackened muscles grow tense as he endeavored to get closer to the cot.  They helped him a step forward.  He pulled his arm free and thrust out his hand.  Pete’s hand closed on those limp, clammy fingers.

“I come ahead of time, pardner.  Come to see how—­you was—­gettin’ along.”  The Spider’s arm dropped to his side.

“Take him to the other bed there,” said the doctor.

The Spider shook his head.  “Just a minute.”  He nodded toward Pete.  “I want you to do something for me.  Go see that party—­in letter—­fix you up—­he’s played square with me—­same as you done.”

“But who was it—­” began Pete.

“Old bunch.  Trailed me—­too close.  Got ’em—­every dam’ one.  A mas ver.  Tengo que marcharme, compadre.”  And then, “Close the cases,” said The Spider.

The internes helped him to the cot on which Doris had rested as she watched Pete through those dark hours, refusing to leave him till she knew the great danger had passed.

Pete lay back staring at the ceiling.  He was, stunned by this sudden calamity.  And all at once he realized that it must have been The Spider who had called to see him several times.  Doris had hinted to Pete that some friend asked after him daily.  So The Spider had come to El Paso to find out if the money had been delivered—­risking his life for the sake of a few thousand dollars!  Pete turned and glanced at the other cot.  The doctor was bending over The Spider, who mumbled incoherently.  Presently brisk footsteps sounded in the hallway, and two men entered the room and stepped to where The Spider lay.  They spoke in low tones to the doctor, who moved back.  One of the men—­a heavy-shouldered, red-faced man, whom Pete recognized—­asked The Spider who had shot him, and if he had been in Pony Baxter’s place that night.  The Spider’s lips moved.  The other leaned closer.  Dimly The Spider realized that this was the Law that questioned him.  Even at the last moment his old enemy had come to hunt him out.  The Spider’s beady black eyes suddenly brightened.  With a last vicious effort he raised his head and spat in the officer’s face.

The doctor stepped quickly forward.  The Spider lay staring at the ceiling, his sightless eyes dulled by the black shadow of eternal night.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

GETTING ACQUAINTED