"He's a'goin' back to Gimlet Butte, to give himself up to Brandt, day
after to-morrow."

"But-- what for?" she gasped.

"Durned if I know! He's got some fool notion about playin' fair. Seems
he came into the Cedar Mountain country to catch the Squaw Creek
raiders. Brandt let him escape on that pledge. Well, he's give up that
notion, and now he thinks, dad gum it, that it's up to him to
surrender to Brandt again."

The girl's eyes were like stars. "And he's going to go back there and
give himself up, to be tried for killing Faulkner."

Dillon scratched his head. "By gum, gyurl, I didn't think of that. We
cayn't let him go."

"Yes, we can."

"Why, honey, he didn't kill Faulkner, looks like. We cayn't let him go
back there and take our medicine for us. Mebbe he would be lynched.
It's a sure thing he'd be convicted."

"Never mind. Let him go. I've got a plan, dad." Her vivid face was
alive with the emotion which spoke in it. "When did he say he was
going?" she asked buoyantly.

"Day after to-morrow. Seems he's got business that keeps him hyer
to-morrow. What's yore idee, honey?"