Kid nodded.
"All right--come down," Bud said.
Kid disappeared from the aperture in the loft and Bud went softly into
the house.
Silently the Chief slid down under the porch of the cabin. As Bud came
out of the house he saw in the Sheriff's hand a small thirty-two-caliber
revolver which he was smilingly examining. Before he could pocket the
weapon Tabywana leaped upon him and clutched the hand that held the gun,
but Bud, with a muttered imprecation, deftly threw the hand with the
revolver over Tabywana's shoulder, but only to feel an iron fist beat
his knuckles. Involuntarily he loosened his hold and heard Bill's voice
say:
"Put up your gun, Clarke."
Kid had reached there just at the end of the struggle, and had started
to pull his revolver to assist Bud.
Holding the captured revolver in his hand, Bill said: "Why, what's the
matter, boys? I don't allow no gun-play on this ranch--not while I'm
foreman of it."
In the first faint light of the rising sun the three figures were like
ghostly silhouettes against the gray background.
"I want that gun," Bud replied.
"How did you come by it?" Bill demanded.
Before Bud Hardy could speak, Tabywana grasped Bill by the arm and by
pantomime indicated that Bud had crept into the house and stolen it.
Bill turned sternly to Bud. "What do you mean by sneakin' into other
peoples' houses at night an' takin' their property? Why"--as he
examined the revolver---"this gun belongs to Nat-u-ritch."
Almost savagely Bud interposed: "Oh, it does, does it? You heard that,
Clarke? Well, that's all I want to know."
Bill saw that Bud had gained evidence against the little woman. "Well,
it ain't all _I_ want to know. You'll have to show me, Bud--you'll have
to show me why you're combinin' the trades of burglar an' sheriff."
Then, with a change in his voice, he said, "Better sit down and we'll
discuss this amicable."
Bud seated himself near Clarke and Bill; Tabywana remained standing near
them, eagerly trying to grasp all that was being said. Bud was not
averse to taking Bill into his confidence. He felt that with Clarke as
a witness to Bill's statement he had gained the essential point his case
needed.
"You fellers have guyed me for years about Cash Hawkins's death, 'ain't
you? Now it's my turn."
So Bud was going to try to make a sensational arrest through Bill, and
thus win the county over to him and secure another election to the
office of sheriff! Should he call Jim at once, Bill wondered. He
determined to wait and see if Bud meant to declare his intentions.
[Illustration: "'YES, DIANA. MY BOY----MY SON'" See page 257]
"Ancient history that, Bud," he said, "Forgotten long ago."