covered up right well. We
know you work through Morrow but can't prove a word. We've got enough
to hang him; but I expect maybe you'll get off."

There was a scrape of feet outside the door and the sheriff entered and
took possession of Slade's gun as Harris and Waddles moved round from
the window and went inside.

"I'm a few minutes late," Alden said. "I wasn't right sure how close I
was to the house so I left my horse too far back."

"Here's your prisoners," Carp said. "Captured and delivered as agreed.
I haven't anything on Slade myself but if you want him he's yours."

"What do you want with me?" Slade demanded a second time.

"I'm picking you up on complaint make by the Three Bar," Alden said.
"I'll have to take you along."

Slade turned on Harris.

"What charge?" he asked.

"Killing twelve Three Bar bulls on the last day of August," Harris
stated.

"I was out with the ranger," Slade said. "Back in the hills. You know
that yourself. That charge won't stick."

"Then maybe it was the second of May," Harris returned. "I sort of
forget."

Slade suddenly grasped the significance of this arrest.

"How many of you fellows are pussy-footing round out here?" he inquired
of Carp.

"I don't mind confessing that several of the boys are riding for you,"
Carp informed. "But while we've cinched Morrow we haven't been able to
trace it back to you. I even got put on the black list, thinking you
might do business with me direct after that--knowing my word wouldn't
stand against yours. But not you! You've covered your tracks."

Carp spoke softly, as if to himself, detailing his failure to gather
conclusive evidence against Slade.

"I even run your rebrand on fifty or so Three Bar cows. You knew there
wasn't a dollar changed hands when Morrow gave me that paper which
licensed me to rustle my own she-stock. We can't even prove that you
didn't owe him two years' back pay and square up by giving him that
bill of sale. There's never a check of yours made out to Morrow that's
gone through the bank. The boys who staged the stampede drew down a
lump sum from Morrow for the job. We know who was financing the
raid--can't be proved. The idea in my starting up was to run your
rebrand on any number of Three Bar cows. Later Morrow would buy me
out--acting for you; can't be proved. Oh, you're in the clear, all
right."

Slade broke in upon the monologue. This recitation of his probable
immunity from convic