It is the antemortem statement of one of
Sneed's men, taken at the hospital at three-fifteen this morning. He
died at four o'clock."

The coroner read the statement aloud. Ten minutes later the verdict was
given. The deceased, named severally, had met death by gunshot wounds,
_at the hands of parties unknown_.

It was a caustic verdict, intended for the benefit of the cattle-and
horse-thieves of the Southwest. It conveyed the hint that the city of
Phoenix was prompt to resent the presence of such gentry within its
boundaries. One of the daily papers commented upon the fact that "the
parties unknown" must have been fast and efficient gunmen. Cheyenne's
name was not mentioned, and that was due to the influence of the
marshal, Senator Brown, and the mayor, which left readers of the papers
to infer that the police of Phoenix had handled the matter themselves.

Through the evidence of the outlaw who had survived long enough to make
a statement, the Box-S horses were traced to a ranch in the neighborhood
of Tucson, identified, and finally returned to their owner.

The day following the inquest, Bartley and Cheyenne left Phoenix, with
Fort Apache as their first tentative destination, and with the promise
of much rugged and wonderful country in between as an incentive to
journey again with his companion, although Bartley needed no special
incentive. At close range Bartley had beheld the killing of several men.
And he could not free himself from the vision of Panhandle crawling
toward him in the patch of white light, the flitting of horsemen back
and forth, and the red flash of six-guns. Bartley was only too anxious
to leave the place.

It was not until they were two days out of Phoenix that Cheyenne
mentioned the fight--and then he did so casually, as though seeking an
opinion from his comrade.

Bartley merely said he was glad Cheyenne had not killed Panhandle.
Cheyenne pondered a while, riding loosely, and gazing down at the trail.

"I reckon I would 'a' killed him--if I'd 'a' got the chance," he said.
"I meant to. No, it wasn't me or Panhandle that settled that argument:
it was somethin' bigger than us. Folks that reads about the fight,
knowin' I was in Phoenix, will most like say that I got him. Let 'em say
so. I know I didn't; and you know I didn't--and that's good enough for
me."

"And Dorothy and Aunt Jane and Little Jim," said Bartley.

"Meanin' Little Jim won't have to grow up knowin' that his father was a
ki