use for him, but I'll be everlastingly horn-spooned if I think
his father's got much reason to be proud of him.

"Then came the day when he stepped to the door and saw that Mexican
_primo_ hugging her, and he swore to me that all in a flash he was so
wild with anger and jealousy he didn't know what he was doin' until he
heard the report and the man dropped dead--that he didn't remember
drawin' or takin' aim, or anything but just wantin' to kill. When he
cooled down and realized what he had done he was in a regular panic.
If he gave himself up the facts about the wedding would have to come
out, in order to protect Amada, and then his father would roar, and
probably cast him off if he wouldn't give her up, and if he escaped
conviction for the murder the _primo's_ relatives would be dead sure
to get even with him. The only way he could see out of it was to hide
the body and skip. The man who was with him--a cow-boy they had just
hired who had come out of the mountains to make a stake so he could go
prospectin' again--Bill Frank was his name, and I told him yes, I knew
him--well, this man offered to see him out for the stake he'd expected
to have to work some time for, and as Will had some money in his
clothes they made the bargain and skipped. They changed the clothing
and carried the body in their wagon up to the White Sands and buried
it. It was them that held you up, Tom, that night last spring, and it
was Will Whittaker, in the Mexican's duds, that you thought was a
Mexican, who slunk around in the bushes and held the gun on you part
of the time. They had the Mexican's body in the wagon and they didn't
mean to allow any curiosity about it or about their business, and
you'd have dropped dead in your tracks if you'd shown any."

"I knew that very well all the time I was with 'em," Tom answered
quietly.

"When they got nearly to the railroad they burned the wagon and killed
the horses, and Will scooted for Mexico, and he's been in Chihuahua
ever since.

"'My boy,' I says to him, 'you've got to come back with me.' 'I
can't,' says he, 'it will be my everlasting ruin if I do.' 'Face the
music like a man,' I said, 'and get out of it what you can.' I could
see by his eyes that he was honin' to come back, but he was almighty
afraid, I reckon mostly on Amada's account. He's plum' daft about
her--and I don't know as I blame him very much--and he told me he had
planned to get her down there soon.

"'How can I go back?' says