Sandersen
entered. The former turned at the door and faced Kern and the four
assistants of the sheriff.

"I'll tell you what you'll do, you wise gents," he growled. "You'll
miss him altogether. You hear?"

And then he stamped down the hall.

Sandersen carefully removed his hat as he went in. He was quite aware
that Cartwright must have been just refused a place on the posse, and
he did not wish to appear too confident. He paid his compliments to the
bunch, except Arizona, to whom he was introduced. The sheriff
forestalled his request.

"You've come for a job in the posse, Bill?"

Hastily Sandersen cut in before the other should pronounce a final
judgment.

"I don't blame you for turning down Cartwright," he said. "A gent like
that who don't know the country ain't much use on the trail, eh?"

"The point is, Bill, that I got all the men I need. I don't want a
whole gang."

"But I got a special reason, sheriff. Besides a tolerable fast hoss
that might come in handy for a chase, I sling a tolerable fast gun,
sheriff. But beyond that all, I got a grudge."

"A grudge?" asked the sheriff, pricking his ears.

"So did Cartwright have a grudge," cut in Arizona dryly.

Perhaps after all, Sandersen felt, fate might not be with him in this
quest for Sinclair. He said earnestly: "You see, boys, it was me that
raised the posse that run down Cold Feet in the first place. It was me
that backed up Sinclair all the way through the trail, and I feel like
some of the blame for what happened is coming to me. I want to square
things up and get a chance at Sinclair. I want it mighty bad. You know
me, Kern. Gimme a chance, will you?"

"Well, that sounds like reason," admitted the sheriff. "Eh, boys?"

The posse nodded its general head, with the usual exception of Arizona,
who seemed to take a particular pleasure in diverging from the
judgments of the others.

"Just a minute, gents," he said. "Don't it strike you that they's
something the same with Cartwright and Sandersen? Both of 'em in
particular anxious to cut in on this party; both of 'em has grudges.
Cartwright said he didn't want no share of the money if you caught
Gaspar and Sinclair. Is that right for you, too, Sandersen?"

"It sure is. I want the fun, not the coin," said Sandersen.

"Boys," resumed Arizona, "it rounds up to this: Sinclair came down here
to Sour Creek for a purpose."

Sandersen began to listen intently. He even dreaded this fat man from
the south