"You figure to stay in town a spell, don't you? Well, I figure to leave,
right soon. I'm tryin' to dodge trouble. It's your chanct to help out."

"Why can't we both walk out?"

"'Cause they'd follow us. They won't follow you."

Bartley glanced at the men ranged along the bar, rose, and, shaking
hands with Cheyenne, strode out, nodding pleasantly to the one-eyed
proprietor as he went.

Sneed eyed the Easterner sharply, and nudged one of his men as Bartley
passed through the doorway.

"Just step out and see where he goes, Hull," he ordered in an undertone.
"Keep him in sight."

The man spoken to hitched up his chaps, and, turning to finish his
drink, strolled out casually.

Bartley saw a row of saddle-horses tied at the rail. He noticed the
slickers on the saddles and the carbines under the stirrup leathers. It
was evident that the riders were not entirely on pleasure bent. He
crossed the street, wakened the stableman, paid the bill, and saddled
Joshua. Then he took the tie-rope off Filaree, as Cheyenne had directed.
Bartley led Joshua through the barn to the back, where he was tying him
to a wagon wheel when a figure loomed up in the semi-darkness.

"Ridin', stranger?"