lungs. You see in me," he drawled, "a victim of chivalry. I've played
for big stakes; I've robbed gaily, and killed a man or two in the way of
fighting; all of which sits lightly on my conscience. But there are two
things I haven't done. I want you to remember distinctly that I have
_not_ dragged that girl into this--nor had any hand in torturing a
wounded old man."

"You mean Lyn Rowan? Is she safe?" Mac squatted beside him, leaning
eagerly forward to catch the reply. Piegan returned with the water as
Goodell was about to answer. He swallowed thirstily, took breath, and
went on.

"Yes, I mean her," he said huskily. "I'll tell you quick, for I know I
won't last long, and when I'm done you'll know where to look for them. I
started this thing--this hold-up business--no matter why. Lessard was
away in the hole--gambling and other things--I hinted the idea to him;
he jumped at it, as I thought he would. And----"

"Lessard!" I interrupted. "He was in on this, then?"

"Was he?" Goodell echoed. "He is the whole thing."

I had suspected as much, but sometimes it is a surprise to have one's
suspicions confirmed. I glanced at Mac and Piegan.

"I was sure of it all along," Mac answered my unspoken thought. Piegan
merely shrugged his shoulders.

"I wanted to get that government money in the pay-wagon, that was
all--at first," Goodell continued. "We planned a long time ahead, and we
had to take in those three to make it go. Then Lessard found out about
those two old miners, and put Hicks and Gregory on their trail unknown
to me--I had no hand in that foul business. You know the result--the
finish--that night you lost the ten thousand--it was hellish work. I
wanted to kill Hicks and Gregory when they told me. Poor old Dutchman!
Lessard put Bevans on your trail, Flood. He followed you from Walsh that
day, and you played into his hands that night when you stirred up the
fire. Only for running into his partners, he would probably have
murdered you for that ten thousand some night while you slept. Give me
another drink."

I lifted the pot of water to his lips again, and he thanked me
courteously.

"Then Lessard conceived the theory that you fellows had learned more
than you told. We were fixed to get the paymaster on that trip. We shook
you, and did the job. MacRae was on the way--you know. He sent you to
the Stone with those devils to keep cases on you. It seemed a pity to
let slip that gold-dust after they had gone so far.