Pink, and patted him on the shoulder and told him gravely that they couldn't
possibly do without him.

It looked for a minute as if Pink were going at him with his fists--but he
didn't. He reflected that one must not offer violence to an officer of the
law, and that, being made a deputy, he would have to go, anyway; so he
gritted his teeth and buckled on his gun, and went along sulkily.

They rode silently, for the most part, and swiftly.

Even in the dusk they could see where a band of horses had been driven at a
gallop along the creek bank. When they neared the place it was dark. Pink
pulled up and spoke for the first time since leaving the tent.

"We better tie up our horses here and walk," he said, quite unconscious of
the fact that he was usurping the leadership, and thinking only of their
quest.

But the sheriff was old at the business, and not too jealous of his
position. He signed to his deputy proper, and they dismounted.

When they started on, Pink was ahead. The sheriff observed that Pink's gun
still swung in its scabbard at his hip, and he grinned--but that was because
he didn't know Pink. That the gun swung at his hip would have been quite
enough for any one who did know him; it didn't take Pink all day to get into
action

Ten rods from the corral, which they could distinguish as a black blotch in
the sparse willow growth, Pink turned and stopped them. "I know the layout
here," he whispered. "I'll just sneak ahead and rubber around. You Rubes