ition to fool with.

"Now where do we head for?" said Owen as they stood at the foot of the
hospital steps.

"I was goin' to the bank--the Stockmen's Security."

"Good bank. You couldn't do better. Know old E.H. myself. Used to
know him better--before he got rich. No--this way. Short cut. You
got to get acquainted with your legs again, eh? Had a close call. A
little shaky?"

"I reckon I kin make it."

"Call a cab if you say the word."

"I--I figured I could walk," said Pete, biting his lips. But a few
more steps convinced him that the sheriff was taking no risk whatever
in allowing him his liberty.

"Like to see old E.H. myself," stated the sheriff. "Never rode in a
cab in my life. Let's try one."

And the sprightly sheriff of Sanborn County straightway hailed a
languorous cabby who sat dozing on the "high seat" of a coupe to which
was attached the most voluptuous-looking white horse that Pete had ever
seen. Evidently the "hospital stand" was a prosperous center.

"We want to go to the Stockmen's Security Bank," said the sheriff, as
the coupe drew up to the curb. The driver nodded.

Pete leaned back against the cushions and closed his eyes. Owen
glanced at him and shook his head. There was nothing vicious or brutal
in that face. It was not the face of a killer.

Pete sat up suddenly. "I was forgittin' I was broke," and he turned to
Owen.

"No. There's sixty-seven dollars and two-bits of yours over at the
station, along with your gun and a bundle of range clothes."

"I forgot that."

"Feel better?"

"Fine--when I'm settin' still."

"Well, we're here. Go right in. I'll wait."

Pete entered the bank and inquired for the president, giving the
attendant his name in lieu of the card for which he was asked. He was
shown in almost immediately, and a man somewhat of The Spider's type
assured him that he was the president and, as he spoke, handed Pete a
slip of paper such as Pete had never before seen.

"You're Peter Annersley?" queried Hodges.

"Yes. What's this here?"

"It's more money than I'd want to carry with me on the street," said
Hodges. "Have you anything that might identify you?"

"What's the idee?"

"Mr. Ewell had some money with us that he wished transferred to you, in
case anything happened to him. I guess you know what happened." Then
reflectively, "Jim was a queer one."

"You mean The Spider wanted me to have this?"

"Yes. That slip of paper represents jus