maybe not. And then what?”
“Hide your body and then drift back to the camp and get Dawn and the girl tonight.”
“You agin’ a dozen?”
“A dozen? They’s only a man and a half in that camp. And you’re the whole man, partner.”
“I take that kind of you, Ronicky.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“But they’ll have numbers on you!”
“Numbers ain’t anything. Not in night work. Not when you got the instinct for shooting. I’d sort of like it.”
“You would?”
“Yep. I never met up with so many gents that was all ripe for shooting, Moon. And I sure would like to get busy right among all them targets.”
“Why don’t you get a job with a sheriff?” asked Moon. “That’d keep your hand in on the work you like.”
“I wouldn’t make it professional. I ain’t that low. I shoot to kill when I have to, that’s all.”
“But you sort of like to have to, eh?”
“I guess that’s it. Ah!”
The last monosyllable was a snarl of eagerness, and the hand of Ronicky flashed down to his revolver—but it came away again and rested carelessly on his hip. He had mistaken a movement of the outlaw’s right hand.
“Sorry,” said Ronicky.
“That’s all right. I got steady nerves. Well, Ronicky, it’s sure fine to have met you after hearing so much about you. And it’s fine to see you so fit.”
“Thanks,” said Ronicky. “I’m waiting for you to start something, Jack.”
“Want me to start for my gat first? I never take gifts, Ronicky. They cost too much!”
“H’m!” said Ronicky. “You’re a queer bird, Jack.”
“Yep. That’s right. I’m queer. Pretty near as queer as you. You’re so sure you’d beat me if we come to pulling guns.”
“That ain’t queer,” said Ronicky. “It’s just a feeling you get.”
“Like shooting in the dark?”
“Kind of. I know I’m a faster man than you, Jack. Shooting you is pretty near to murder—except that you been such a devil that you deserve a thousand killings.”
“Thanks! But they ain’t going to be no gun play, son.”
“No?”
“I’ve said they wasn’t, and I mean it. You’re going to come back in camp with me. You’re going to come back as one of my men.”
Ronicky started and then shook his head.
“You got me figured all wrong,” he said patiently. “I ain’t your kind, Jack.”
“Nobody is,” said the other. “But you’ll come.”
“To get a share of the Cosslett gold if it’s found?”
“D’you think I’d try to buy you with gold, Ronicky? Son, you must think I’m a plumb fool. No, money ain’t your price.”
“I got a price, have I?”
“I’ll show you. You’ll come into camp with me because you want to get Dawn and the girl off.”
“Well? Ain’t they made a bargain? They show you the treasure, and you set ‘em free.”
“You know as well as me that they ain’t any treasure, son. I’m digging just for the fun of it. One chance in a thousand, maybe, and it’s worth the try.”
“Moon,” said the other, straightening, “it ain’t any good. I know you.”
“You’re the only gent in the world that does, then,” said Jack Moon.
“Maybe you think that. Maybe you’re right. I don’t want to get close enough to a gent like you to find out the truth. I want to put on gloves when I handle you.”
“That’s sort of strong, son!”
“Curse you!” said Ronicky Doone, his voice trembling suddenly with a horror and loathing which he had been repressing all of this time. “I can understand and forgive some gents for killing. Some men kill because they go plumb mad with anger. And I’d forgive them. But you—you’re never going to lose your temper. You’re not fond of nothing but yourself. You kill because things get in your way. You kill by rule, the way other folks build a house or do ‘rithmetic. Moon, of all the gents I ever hear about, you’re the worst. I’m going to finish you, right here under these trees!”
“Sure sorry!” the outlaw chuckled. “But, Ronicky, I won’t fight!”
The other gasped.
“You? Not fight? Jack Moon not fight?”
“That’s what I said.”
“You lie!”
“Nope. Why should I get myself dropped? Right now I know you’re a better man than I am.”
“Moon, I’m going to pull my gun. Defend yourself like a man, or I’ll shoot you like the skunk you are!”
But Jack Moon dropped both hands on his hips and smiled straight at the set face of Ronicky Doone.
“You can’t do it, Ronicky,” he said. “That’s the trouble with fools like you. You can’t do a lot of things you ought to do. You won’t shoot till I move for my gun. I ain’t going to move!”
“I’ll let the mountains know you’re yaller, Moon!”
“Tell the mountains, then. None of the men would believe it.”
Ronicky Doone ground his teeth, knowing the truth.
“Come out with your game, Jack,” he said at last. “How you going to get me? Why d’you want me? How come you think I’m such a fool I’ll go into your camp with you where I’d be helpless?”
The leader laughed softly, more to himself—an inward mirth.
“D’you expect me to answer all them questions? All I’ll tell you is this: I’m going to get you into camp so’s I can down you by myself, Ronicky. You’re a better man than me right now. The first I’ve ever met! But after I’ve had you with me for twenty-four hours, you’ll begin to get weak—without knowing it. And when the bust comes, I’ll win! That’s the main reason!”
“You think I’m a plumb fool, Jack,” said Ronicky. “Come into your camp? What’d
