The Rider of Golden Bar

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE DISTRICT ATTORNEY'S NIGHTMARE

  Behind the corral of Guerilla Melody, at the tip end of Golden Bar,Main Street, a small spring bubbled to life amid rocks. It was thecustom of Guerilla Melody to slip out to this spring for a long cooldrink of fresh water each night before going to bed.

  On the night of the first of April, Guerilla, having spent a short butprofitable poker evening with several friends in a saloon, reached thespring at eleven o'clock.

  "I thought you were never coming," announced a peevish voice from theblack shadow of a large rock. "I've been waiting here since nineo'clock."

  "You talk much louder, Bill," said Guerilla calmly, "and you'll waithere a while longer--say about twenty years longer or fifteen, if thejudge feels good-natured. Man alive, ain't you got _any_ sense?"

  "I was lonesome," Billy excused himself. "I've got to talk tosomebody. And anyway, a feller hardly ever gets more'n ten years for ahold-up where nobody's killed."

  "But where somebody is killed the penalty is worth considerin',"pointed out Guerilla Melody. "And Tip O'Gorman was found yesterdaymorning lying on the floor of his front room dead as Julius Caesar, withyour quirt beside him, and your snakeskin hatband inside the door."

  "Tip killed! Tip!"

  "Yes, Tip, and on account of the quirt and the hatband there's awarrant issued for you for the murder, and two posses are out lookingfor you."

  "I saw them," said Billy placidly. "I thought it was on account of thestage hold-up. And they think I downed Tip?"

  "Half the town's sure you did, and half is sure you didn't, and theother half is straddlin' the fence."

  "That makes three halves," Billy said dryly. "Golden Bar must haveconsiderably increased in population since I left."

  "You know what I mean," snapped Guerilla, irritated at what he chose toconsider callous flippancy on the part of his friend. "And Tip ain'tthe only one cashed. Rafe Tuckleton passed out last night."

  "How?"

  "Throat cut, head cut, and three knife cuts through his heart. HazelWalton is in jail charged with the job."

  Billy Wingo stiffened where he sat. Hazel Walton in jail! For aninstant he couldn't realize it. His fingers closed on Guerilla'sforearm.

  Guerilla jerked away the arm. "You don't need to cut my arm in two,"he remonstrated, tenderly fingering the member in question. "I didn'thave nothing to do with it. Lord A'mighty, Bill, I'll bet you squeezeda muscle out of place."

  "My mistake," apologized Billy. "I forgot myself for a minute."

  "Then I don't want to be around when you remember yourself. I----"

  "What evidence is there against Hazel?" Billy cut in sharply.

  "In the first place there's the knife that killed Rafe," said Guerilla,seating himself beside his friend in the shadow of the rock. "Butcherknife with T.W. on the handle that Hazel admitted was hers when theyshowed it to her. But she said Dan Slike had taken the knife--stuck itin his boot when he left. Then there was Rafe's own gun which Hazelhad lying on her kitchen table, showing he'd been there. She admittedthat too, but said he'd attacked her, and she'd managed to get hold ofhis gun after the clock fell on him, and drive him out."

  "Rafe attacked her, huh? And she drove him out?" Billy leaned backagainst the rock in order to steady his shaking body. When he spoke,he found some difficulty in keeping his voice down. "_He attacked herand she drove him out_! Then what in hell is she arrestedfor--defending herself?"

  "Now, listen, Bill, you know me. I believe anything that girl says, nomatter what. But there are some other people harder to convince. Thedistrict attorney, and he's got a good many others stringing theirchips with his, says how this story of Rafe's attacking her ain't true.That Rafe wouldn't hurt her on a bet, because he liked her too much.And to back that up, here's Rafe's foreman, Jonesy, steps up and swearsRafe told him he was going to see Hazel last night and ask her to marryhim. Hazel says Rafe was drunk when he came to see her, and Jonesysays he wasn't. So there's that."

  "Weren't there any tracks round Rafe's body to show----"

  "You know yourself there was a li'l freeze last night and the groundstiffened up some, and I guess the district attorney and the threeothers who found Rafe were so flustered they walked all over the groundround Rafe and wiped out every sign there was."

  "Who was with the district attorney?"

  Guerilla told him and resumed the thread of his discourse. "When thedistrict attorney and the other witnesses examined the Walton premises,they found plenty of evidence that there'd been a fight, and they founda lot of supplies gone, cartridges, grub and such, Hazel had bought intown the morning before."

  "Is that all?" asked Billy when Guerilla paused.

  "Lemme get my breath," Guerilla begged indignantly. "The wholebusiness is so tangled and mixed up it's hard to tell it straight. No,it ain't all. The district attorney says those supplies were boughtfor you and they were taken by you. Hazel's ridin' horse, the one usedto be her uncle's, that's gone too--with you."

  "If Rale thinks I was at Hazel's, it's reasonable to assume I mighthave had a hand in killin' Rafe my own self. That goes double for DanSlike, seeing he had the knife last."

  "It's reasonable all right enough, but then you and Dan Slike ain'tnoways available, and Hazel is right handy. Rale admits you might havedone it, and he keeps yawpin' the evidence is strong against Hazel, andhe would be false to his oath of office if he didn't put her in jail."

  "False to his oath of office! Rale!"

  "Yeah, ain't it a joke?" contemptuously.

  "But how did Slike get hold of the butcher knife, that's what I want toknow? He didn't have it on him when I arrested him last January."

  "That's the damndest part of the whole deal, Bill. Hazel says DanSlike came to her place before Rafe did, and it was him took thesupplies and her horse and her hat and that very same butcher knifewhich gave Rafe his come-uppance. Slike beat her almost senseless too,she said."

  Billy Wingo looked up at the stars. His lips moved. But no soundissued. After a moment he said, in an oddly dead tone of voice, "Howdid Slike escape?"

  "Far as anybody can tell, he made him a key somehow and unlocked thejail door and walked out. Anyway, Riley Tyler found the door openyesterday afternoon and Dan's cell empty. And the district attorneylost a horse and saddle."

  "The district attorney, huh?"

  "The district attorney."

  "It was to some people's interests to have Dan Slike escape," Billysaid musingly.

  "You bet it was, and I'm gamblin' somebody let him out all right,but--well, I dunno. Anyway, Rale, he led the posse that trailed Slike,him and Felix Craft. Nobody could have been more energetic than thosetwo."

  "If they were so energetic and there was any kind of a trail, whichthere should have been, because it was a warm afternoon, it's queerthey didn't run up on Slike at Hazel's."

  "That's the funny part of it. The trail led in the opposite directiontoward Jacksboro. The posse followed it clear to the West Fork of theWagonjack, where they lost it on the rocky ground on the other side."

  "Slike might have doubled back."

  Guerilla Melody shook his head. "Not without gettin' caught--if herode to the West Fork first. Besides, Hazel says he came to her housea li'l after sunset, and he escaped, near as we can figure out, betweenthree and four. So you see he'd never have had time to make it toWalton's from the West Fork by sunset."

  "Did Hazel say how long he stayed?"

  "About an hour."

  "An hour! Then Slike knew he wasn't being followed. He never went tothe West Fork a-tall."

  Guerilla nodded a grave head. "I never was sure he did, especiallyafter Shotgun Shillman told me when he got back that the tracks theyfollowed to the West Fork looked a damsight older than they had a rightto, always supposin' they were made that afternoon. Oh, you can'tblame Shotgun, Bill, or Riley either. The district attorney was incharge of the posse, and him and Felix and the rest of
his friends saidit was the wind a-blowing so hard made the tracks look old. And therewas a tearin' breeze, worse luck."

  "Do you know somethin', Guerilla? It wouldn't surprise me a whole lotto find out the district attorney his own self made that trail to theWagonjack."

  "It would surprise me if you _found it out_. You ain't catchin' him soeasy. Not that feller."

  "Leave it to me. And he provided Slike with the horse too. You'llsee."

  "I'm sure hoping I do. I'd like nothing better than to see Art Ralestretching the kinks out of a new rope."

  "Stranger things have happened. I guess I'd better go see the districtattorney."

  Guerilla Melody chuckled as one does at a pleasantry.

  "I mean it," pronounced Billy. "He needs a li'l straight talk, andhe's going to get it prompt and soon. Luckily he likes fresh air."

  "Fresh air?" puzzled Guerilla.

  "Leaves his window partly open at night," explained Billy. "Whichbeing so, I'll be out of luck if I can't creep in and give him thesurprise of his life."

  "He may not have gone to sleep yet. I'll find out."

  Before Billy could stay him, Guerilla was gone. Fifteen minutes laterhe returned.

  "He's abed, snoring like a circular saw working on a knotty log,"Guerilla informed him. "But there's a light in the kitchen."

  "That means his housekeeper's up--probably settin' bread for to-morrow.Ain't she quite a friend of yours, Guerilla?"

  The darkness veiled Guerilla's blush. "I see her now and then."

  "Then go see her now," urged Billy. "It's kind of late for an eveningcall, but you can tell her some kind of a lie. If she likes you,she'll believe it. You go see her and keep her in the kitchen for thenext thirty minutes. Then meet me here."

  The district attorney, lying on the broad of his back in bed, suddenlysnored his way into a nightmare. He dreamed that he was in the woods,that he had lain down upon an inviting bank and that a ninety-foot pinehad fallen upon his chest, to the prejudice of his breathing. Hesquirmed and wriggled but the tree was immovable. It was slowlycrushing the walls of his chest. The district attorney gasped--awoke,and discovered to his horror that his bad dream was partly true. Therewas something roosting on his chest. If not a tree, it was at leastconfoundedly heavy. Furthermore, adding as it were to the interest ofthe occasion, a something chilly and hard was rooting into the angle ofhis chin and neck.

  The something on his chest spoke in a carefully restrained whisper."Keep very quiet."

  The district attorney would have shivered had he been able to move thatmuch. He knew that voice. It belonged to Billy Wingo.

  "You shouldn't have left your window open," pointed out Billy. "Yourinsane love for fresh air will be the death of you yet."

  The district attorney did nothing but gasp faintly.

  "Would it be more comfortable if I sat on your stomach instead?" askedthe oppressor prodding the other man in the throat with his gun muzzle.

  "I--I--cuc-can't breathe!" the district attorney choked out.

  "Just a minute," said Billy, feeling beneath the pillows, but findingno weapon, he slid from the district attorney's chest to the side ofthe bed. "You didn't expect to see me so soon, did you, Arthur?"

  "No," was the truthful reply, "I didn't."

  "I was counting on that. I hear you arrested Miss Walton."

  "I--er--I had to," explained the district attorney, beginning to feelthat, in the matter of Miss Walton, he had perhaps been a trifle hasty.

  "Fool mistake. You didn't have any evidence against her a-tall."

  "But--" began the district attorney.

  Billy cut him short. "No evidence a-tall. Not a smidgin. No. Youwere too previous, Arthur, with your duty and your oath of office.Damn your duty, damn your oath of office. I've got a sneaking idea,old settler, that you are cluttering up the face of the earth. Bereasonable now, don't you think so yourself?"

  But this was more than the district attorney was willing to admit."I'll tell you what I think," he grunted. "I think if Hazel Waltondidn't kill Rafe Tuckleton then you did."

  "About _Miss_ Walton there ain't any ifs, nary an if. She didn't doit. There is a reasonable doubt that I did, several reasonable doubts,in fact. Anyway, Arthur, try keeping your suspicions to yourself tooblige me, will you? Lord knows one murder and a stage hold-up areenough crimes to be charged with at one time."

  "You thought you were very clever," sneered the district attorney,"getting that girl to pack your supplies out from town for you. Didn'thave nerve enough to do it yourself. Had to hide behind a woman'sskirts and get her in trouble, didn't you?"

  "You mean about the horse and cartridges and grub that Slike took fromWalton's?"

  "I mean about the horse and cartridges and grub that you took fromWalton's. Slike had nothing to do with that. Slike didn't go toWalton's. He went north to the West Fork, where we lost his trail."

  "You're sure of this?"

  "Sure? Of course I'm sure. Didn't I trail him to the river myself.Didn't-- Say, where'd you get your information?"

  "A li'l bird told me. But he asked me not to mention his name. Sorry."

  The district stared helplessly into the shadowy features of the man athis bedside. The moonlight shone in at the open window through whichBilly had entered. The rays touched a corner of the bed, turning thebedpost to shiny ebony and the counterpane to dull silver. Thedistrict attorney could hear the murmur of his housekeeper's voice inthe kitchen. Some man then, was in the kitchen with her. Lord! if hedared yell for help!

  As though sensing what was passing in the mind of the districtattorney, Billy jabbed the gunsight up under the man's chin. "Don'tgamble with me, Arthur. Think how your friends would miss you."

  But Arthur had already decided against doing any gambling. "What doyou want?" he whispered.

  "I've been hoping you'd ask me that. It gives me an opening and showsyou're willing to be reasonable. Yeah. Arthur, I want you to set MissWalton free."

  "You go to hell," was the sharp return.

  "You don't understand," said Billy, in his lightsome whisper. "You'rethinking because I'm talking to you so bright and merry that I don'tmean what I say. Listen--" the whisper lost its airness and became aruthless, snarling growl--"listen to me. Because of what you've doneto her, it's all I can do to keep from strangling the breath out of youhere and now. If I talked to you the way I feel like talking to you,I'd lose my temper and you'd lose your life. I'm trying to hang on toboth--for now. Don't make it any harder for me than you have to." Hepaused. "About Miss Walton," he continued in his former tone. "I'llgive you your choice. Let her go, and I won't down you by Sundaynight."

  "Huh?"

  "Sunday night. If she isn't out of jail and the warrant against herwithdrawn by noon to-morrow, I give you my word that I'll down you onor before midnight Sunday. And I have a habit of keeping my promises."

  The district attorney knew this to be true. But he was a wriggler bynature. "I--" he began.

  "You can do it," interrupted Billy. "You have the power."

  "I can't," denied the wretched man in the bed, now more than ever awarethat he had made a mistake in arresting Hazel, yet not at all clear inhis mind how to set matters right without being ridiculed intopolitical extinction. Yet if he didn't set matters right, he wouldlose his life. Metaphorically speaking, he eased himself down betweenthe horns of the dilemma and considered. "I can't," he repeated aftera moment of silence. "I can't let her go after arresting her. JudgeDonelson wouldn't understand it. The Governor would remove me fromoffice."

  "You're a liar. Judge Donelson would understand it all right if youexplained it carefully. So would the Governor. They are human beings,even if you aren't."

  "Well," bumbled the district attorney, "maybe I _could_ manage it. Butlook here, what's the use of me letting her go? You couldn't run awaywith her. _You'd_ be caught, sure as fate, and then where would yoube?"

  "I don't intend t
o run away with her or without her. Only a fool runsaway. A man of sense stays comfortably in the background waiting forthe cat to jump."

  "You ran away," pointed out the district attorney.

  "Not at all. I'm staying comfortably in the background, waiting forthe cat to jump."

  "But--" The district attorney stopped abruptly at the word.

  Billy Wingo smiled. The district attorney saw his white teeth gleam inthe darkness. "But you can't understand if I stayed in the vicinitywhy I haven't been caught," he completed the sentence for the otherman. "I realize your posses have been very active."

  "Shotgun Shillman and Riley Tyler are in league with you! They led theposses astray on purpose. I'll get their hides for this!"

  Billy quieted the district attorney with a gesture that drove the man'shead almost through the pillow.

  "There goes your snap judgment again," complained Billy. "Shotgun andRiley are doing their duty. They've done their damndest to catch me.You hurt my feelings when you hint that I may be tampering with them.You don't really think I have, do you, Arthur? Both Shotgun and Rileyare straight as strings, aren't they, Arthur?"

  The gun muzzle pressed ever so gently upon Arthur's Adam's apple."They are," he apologized. "Both of 'em."

  "And you'll free the girl to-night?"

  "To-night? Why not to-morrow?"

  "To-night. I don't like her having to sleep in that calaboose. Youlet her out and tell Shotgun Shillman to take her to Sam Prescott'sright away--right away, to-night, y'understand?"

  "All right," capitulated the district attorney. "I'll do it if I losemy job. But you needn't go swarmin' off with any idea that you'llcheat the gallows. You'll swing, my bold boy, for that O'Gormanmurder. There's nothing you can do to me that will fix up thatbusiness for you--not if you were to kill me here and now. JudgeDonelson wouldn't allow me to withdraw that warrant, even I wanted to.The evidence is too strong."

  "So you really think I downed Tip?" Billy asked curiously.

  "I know it."

  "And held up the stage? Unofficially, Arthur, are you holding thatagainst me, too?"

  "You held up the stage. Jerry Fern saw your horse. So did all thepassengers. Your clothes were identified, too. Jerry told thepassengers to pay particular attention to your clothes and the brassguard on your gun and be able to describe 'em later. They did, andeverbody in town recognized 'em. Oh, we've got you."

  "So clever of you--and cleverer of Jerry Fern. He told the passengersto remember what I wore, did he?"

  "Naturally," said the district attorney hastily. "It was the obviousthing to do."

  Billy nodded. "Of course it was. Bright man, Jerry. Tell you,Arthur, suppose I bring back Dan Slike, would that help me in--mytrouble?"

  "How do you mean?"

  "You want Dan Slike caught, don't you?"

  "Of course I do."

  "Liar," Billy said to himself. Aloud he remarked. "You've comearound, I see. You really believe now that Dan Slike killed Tom Waltonand Judge Driver?"

  "Certainly, he killed them," avowed the district attorney. "And whenhe's caught we'll hang him."

  "That's the proper spirit, Arthur. I have a theory that, since itseems certain that Dan Slike didn't go to Walton's after he escaped, hewent north to the Medicine Mountains."

  "Why?"

  "You followed his trail north to where the West Fork swings due westand there you lost it, didn't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, then, it's certain Slike didn't follow the Fork down. Thatwould bring him to the country east of here, and Tom Read County is noplace for a murderer. Now, what he did was ride the rocky ground alongthe Fork till it swung north again, when he'd either swing north withit straight for the Medicine Mountains, or else ride a li'l west ofnorth and hit the Medicines away to the westward of Jacksboro. And inthe Medicines you might as well look for a needle in a bale of hay.He'll lie low there for a spell, probably during spring and summer.You may depend on it, that's what he's done."

  "I believe you're right," agreed the district attorney, striving toinject a note of excitement in his whisper. "I'll have a posse ridingthat way to-morrow."

  "Not a posse. Too many men in a posse. He'd be able to keep out oftheir way, Slike's no ordinary murderer, Rale. Remember that. He's akiller from Killersville, and he probable knows more about keeping outof sight than a grizzly bear. But one man would have a chance to gethim. He wouldn't be expecting one man, do you see?"

  "I don't see what you're driving at."

  "I mean I'll make a bargain with you, Rale. I'll trade you Slike formyself. You will prosecute these cases against me, if I'm caught. Itlies with you whether I get a chance for my alley or not."

  "How?"

  "You could fail to take advantage of points as they come up. Youcould. You're clever enough, Gawd knows. Now, in the O'Gorman dealI'd plead not guilty. I killed Tip in self-defense, see? Well, youcould let me prove I did mighty easy. Same with the hold-up. I'll getme a clever lawyer who'd take advantage of some flaw in the indictment.You would draw up that indictment. I don't believe we could risk flawsin both indictments, could we?"

  The district attorney could hardly believe his wicked ears. It simplywas not possible that Bill Wingo could be such a simpleton as tobelieve that. "Flaws in both indictments would be a li'l too raw,"said the district attorney, almost suffocating in the effort todissemble his glee.

  "Yes, well, all right. In the O'Gorman murder trial, you'll let meprove my case, and in the other you'll stick in a flaw. The Tuckletoncase you can't do a thing with. There's not enough evidence, so you'llhave to let it drop. What do you think of the proposition, Dan Slikefor Bill Wingo? You can make a record with Dan Slike too. He hasn't afriend in the county. Another thing. That last bribe of yours Imentioned a while ago. I'll throw in what I know about that for goodmeasure with Slike."

  "But why stand your trial at all?" fenced the district attorney. "Whynot try to escape?"

  "You forget that not ten minutes ago you told me I couldn't possiblyescape. You were wrong, naturally. But I don't want to escape. If Idid, I'd have these things hanging over me the rest of my life. Nomatter where I went, I'd always be looking for a warrant waiting for meat every bend in the trail. No, the only sensible way out is to getthis thing over with and settled as soon as possible. I don't want toleave Crocker County. I like it here."

  "Oh," murmured the district attorney, believing that he knew the reasonwhy Billy Wingo did not care to leave the county. It was a good andsufficient reason, and he expected to release it from jail that verynight.

  "But you'd have to get supplies from time to time," he said leadingly."Your description is in every town by now."

  "I'll only go to Jacksboro when I have to buy anything," explainedBilly, "and as it happens, I never was there but once and that was fiveyears ago. If I let my beard and hair grow, who'd know me? It wouldtake somebody from Golden Bar to recognize my voice, and I'll take careto keep out of the way of anybody from Golden Bar. Oh, it'll be safeenough. I'll make my camp somewhere on Coldstream Creek and work allthrough the Medicines from there. I'll get Dan and bring him back.How about it now--willing to make it easy for me at the trial?"

  The district attorney could hardly control his voice. At last thedevil had delivered his enemy into his hands. Now he could pay himback for kicking him out into the snow. You bet he could. "I'll do asyou suggest," he said, "and drop the Tuckleton case in so far as youand Miss Walton are concerned, and I'll let you win on the other twocounts--provided you bring back Dan Slike."

  "Fair enough. In the meantime I want a free hand. You'll have to calloff the posses that are out after me. You can do that without excitingsuspicion. Look how long they've been out."

  "I'll manage it," declared the district attorney. "You think theColdstream is a good place to camp?"

  "Sure it is. I've been there before."

  "Don't risk going to any other town than Jacksboro."


  "I won't," said Billy. "Be sure of that. Well, I guess I'd better bedraggin' it. You'll be wanting to let Miss Walton out. By the way,don't forget that I'm not leaving the neighborhood till I hear thatMiss Walton is safe at Prescott's and the warrant against herwithdrawn. Just bear that in mind, Arthur."

  "I will," Arthur said warmly. "Shall I suggest to Miss Walton that aletter would be sure to reach you at Jacksboro--under an assumed name,of course?"

  "It would be hardly worth while," replied Billy. "Unless I catch DanSlike sooner, I don't expect to be in Jacksboro under a month. Yeah, amonth, anyway."

  "A month, huh? Here's wishing you luck."

  Billy failed to observe the brazenly outstretched hand. "Thanks," hedrawled. "So long."

  But in spite of the agreement it was noticeable that he kept thedistrict attorney covered till his bootsoles touched the ground beneaththe window.

  "Are you crazy?" demanded Guerilla Melody when he had heard all, orthought he had, rather. "You don't actually sure-enough trust him, doyou?"

  "Certainly not," Billy replied calmly, flicking the ash from hiscigarette. "Certainly I don't trust him. That's why I told him what Idid."

  Guerilla Melody screwed a forefinger into the side of his head."Wheels, wheels, wheels, hear 'em buzz."

  "You don't understand, Guerilla. You're all right lots of ways, andI'm your friend, and don't let anybody tell you different, but youhaven't any brains, not a brain."

  "Now, look here," began indignant Guerilla, "if you----"

  "Shut up and listen," Billy cut him short. "I ain't going to theMedicine Mountains a-tall."

  "Where _are_ you going?"

  "South--after Dan Slike. Don't you see, this fool district attorneywon't think of skirmishing after me _south_ of Golden Bar. But I'llbet he'll have posses combin' the Medicines within seven days. And ifI haven't read him wrong, he'll have a warrant for the Tuckleton murderissued for me, too."

  Guerilla nodded a grave head. "With Miss Walton out of it, he'll haveto cinch it on to somebody else. But I don't see yet how finding DanSlike, always supposin' you do find him, is going to help you any.You'll still have to stand your own trial. And you ain't thinkin' thatArthur Rale----"

  "Oh, angels ever bright and fair! The man doesn't see it yet! Iintend to bring in the murderer of Tip O'Gorman and the man who held upthe stage, too, while I'm at it. In words of one syllable _that_ is myplan."

  The expression on the face of Guerilla Melody was one of awe dilutedwith doubt. "All by your lonesome?"

  "Why not?"

  "Maybe I'd better go with you?" offered Guerilla.

  "No," said Bill decidedly, "I'd rather you were here in Golden Bar.Then you can tell me the news now and then. Outside of you and Shotgunand Riley, there ain't a soul in town I can trust, and for officialreasons I can't go near the deputies. So I guess you're elected,Guerilla."

  "Aw right," said his friend. "You're the doctor. Have another drink?"

  "Not to-night. Look at the time. Here we've been gassin' a solidhour. I didn't have any business coming into your house anyway. Nevercan tell who might walk in on us."

  "You better wait till I find out from Riley if Rale kept his word aboutHazel Walton."

  "I won't have to wait here for that. When you come back from talkingto Riley, if everything is O.K. and Hazel has started with Shotgun forPrescott's, you set a lamp on your kitchen table and open and closeyour kitchen door four times. If Rale hasn't moved, open your kitchendoor and stand in the door-way for half a minute. I'll be watchin'from the ridge-- Huh? Sure, I've got field glasses. Borrowed a pairfrom Sam Prescott same time I borrowed a horse. So long, Guerilla!"

  Guerilla Melody blocked off the light of the lamp with his hat whileBilly opened the door and vanished into outer darkness.

  Twenty minutes later, Billy, sitting his horse on the crest of theaforementioned ridge, saw a rectangle of light at the tip end of town,show and go out four distinct times. He clucked to his horse and movedquartering down the slope in the direction of the Hillsville trail.His goal was Prescott's, his intention to obtain from Hazel a detailedaccount of what had happened at the ranch the night of the Tuckletonmurder.