"Is that why you're telling me, Alec?" Fraser smiled.

"We ain't telling you, not legally," the cow-puncher answered coolly.
"If you was ever to say we had, Dick and me would deny it. But we
ain't worrying any about you telling it. You're a clam, and we know
it. No, we're telling you, son, because we want you to know about how
it was. The boys didn't ride out to do murder. They rode out simply to
drive the sheep off their range."

The Texan nodded. "That's about how I figured it. I'm glad you told
me, boys. I reckon I don't need to tell you I'm padlocked in regard to
this."

Arlie came to the door and looked in. "It's time you boys were going.
Doc said a half hour"

"All right, Arlie," responded Dick. "So-long, Steve. Be good, you old
pie eater."

After they had gone, the Texan lay silent for a long time. He
understood perfectly their motive in telling him the story. They had
not compromised themselves legally, since a denial would have given
them two to one in the matter of witnesses. But they wished him to see
that, morally, every man but one who rode on that raid was guiltless
of the Squaw Creek murders.

Arlie came in presently, and sat down near the window with some
embroidery.

"Did the boys tire you?" she asked, noting his unusual silence.