shoot with his left and started huntin' Jack again. Packed that lead with
him till he died, and then they found Jack's bullet in his wrist, all
worked smooth by the play of the bones. Afterwards it turned out that
Plummer ran a whole gang; but before we learned that we'd been fools enough
to make him sheriff. We got to Plummer right after he'd finished hangin' a
man, and took him to his own gallows."

"You'd of thought a cool devil like that would of made a good end, but he
didn't. He just got down on his knees and cried, and asked God to help him.
Then he begged us to give him time to pray, but one of the boys up and told
him he could do his prayin' from the cross-beam. And that was Henry
Plummer, that killed a hundred men, him an' his gang."

"H-m-m," murmured the sheriff, and looked uneasily about. Now that his eyes
were turned away, Vic could study him at leisure, and he wondered at the
smallness of the man. Suppose one were able to lay hands on him it would be
easy to--

"See you later, boys," drawled Glass, and sauntered from the room.

Lew Perkins sighed as the most important part of his audience disappeared,
but having started talking the impetus carried him along, he held Vic Gregg
with his hazy eyes.

"But they didn't all finish like Plummer, not all the bad ones. No sirree!
There was Boone Helm."

"I've heard about him," growled Vic, but the old man had fixed his glance
and his reminiscent smile upon the past and his voice was soft with
distance when he spoke again.