* * * * *

Gary Warden was also following the two sets of tracks that led northward.  He had come upon them accidentally, while riding with one of his men slightly in advance of the others as they went toward Willets, where Warden intended to take the bodies of Link and Givens.  He had said nothing to his companion regarding the tracks, though he noted the other saw them also, and was studying them, puzzled.

“Them tracks ain’t more’n half a dozen hours old,” the man said once, tentatively.  But receiving no answer from Warden he said no more.

In places there were three sets of tracks—­two going northward, and one leading back.  Warden, his eyes glowing malevolently, followed them until they took him into Willets.  An hour later, his face flushed with passion, he was in a little office with Sheriff Moreton, demanding Lawler’s arrest on a charge of murder.

Moreton, a slender man of medium height with a lean, strong face and keen, penetrating eyes, had listened patiently to Warden’s story.

“Lawler told you he killed ’em, eh?  Well then, I reckon he must have—­Lawler ain’t in the habit of lyin’.  You got any witness that Lawler killed ’em, malicious?  You’ve just got done hintin’ that Lawler said he shot ’em in self-defense.  But you say he didn’t.  One man’s word is as good as another’s in law, Mr. Warden—­you got to remember that!”

“Then you won’t do anything?” snapped Warden.

“I reckon I’ll do somethin’,” said the sheriff, drawlingly.  “I’ll have to see Lawler an’ get his side of it.  An’ if you charge Lawler with murder, I’ll have to bring him in.  But I’m warnin’ you that if you ain’t got any witnesses to prove your charge, you ain’t got no show of convictin’ him.  An’ Lawler’s standin’ is pretty high in this country, Warden—­an’ don’t you forget it!”

Warden smiled derisively.  “Well, he seems to have a friend in you, anyway.  I’ll investigate a little before I file formal charges.”

“It’s a good idee—­I’d do a lot of it,” advised the sheriff.  “An’ then, when I’d done a lot of it, I’d do some more—­just to be sure I wasn’t bitin’ off more than I could chew!”

Warden left the sheriff’s office, after turning the bodies of Link and Givens over to the official.  He sent his men to the Two Diamond, and spent some time at a window in the rear of the Wolf Saloon, examining hoof prints on the snow in the vicinity of the Willets Hotel, a short distance from the Wolf.  He was in a vicious mood.

He noted that the three sets of tracks he had followed led to the rear of the hotel.  They were clear and distinct, for no other tracks were near them.  His men and himself had evidently been the first to reach town after the storm had abated—­excepting the riders whose tracks he had followed.

He was still at the window when he heard a step behind him, and saw Singleton approaching.

Singleton’s eyes were gleaming with knowledge.  He was breathing fast.