doing, Bill," Van added, leaning forward
on the table. "I'm going to round up all this gang to-day if it kills
you to keep on the trail."

Christler still sat staring.

"By the Lord Harry!" he said. "By the Lord--but, Van, I didn't come
home to rest. I've got Barger going, somewhere, shot to a sieve. But
he's some disappeared. If that ain't just my luck! I'm goin' to git
him though, you bet! Lord!--my pride--my profession pride--not to
mention that little old reward! I admit I want that money, Van. I
reckon I've pretty near----"

"Yes, you've earned it," Van interrupted. "I'm going to see that you
get it. Bill, but first you get busy with me."

"You'll see that I get----" Christler put the cracker in his mouth.
"Don't talk to a genuine friend like that. I'm tired already."

"Are you?" said Van. "Let's see. Barger is here--in camp."

Up shot the sheriff as if from the force of a blast.

"What!" he shrilled. "Barger! Van, I'll----"

Van grinned.

"Don't forget you're tired, Bill. Matt won't get away."

"Good Lord, boy--tell me where's he at!" cried Christler, dancing on
the floor as he strapped his guns upon him. "Me a-thinkin' I had shot
him up and all this time----"

"You shot him enough, poor devil," Van interrupted quietly. "He's dead
in my tent on the hill."

The sheriff paused with one hand held in the air.

"Dead! Crawled all the way to Goldite!" He started for the door.

"Hold on," said the horseman, blocking his path. "I told you Matt
can't get away. We're going out to get Lawrence first, and then
McCoppet and his friend."

CHAPTER XLIV

THE ENGINES OF CLIMAX

McCoppet was in town. He had come to camp at midnight of the previous
day, duly followed by his friend Larry Trimmer. The lumberman had
waxed impatient. Fully two thousand dollars of the money he had
"earned" was still unpaid--and hard to get. He had gone to the
"Laughing Water" claim, in vain, and a surly heat was rising in his
veins.

Bostwick was due, in his car, at nine o'clock, His visit to Goldite was
not entirely one of business. He had grown alarmed at the lack of news
from Beth. His letters had been ignored. He not only feared for the
fate of his affairs of the heart, but perhaps even more for what she
might have done with respect to the money she had asked him to return,
a very small proportion of which he was now prepared to repay.

Meantime, Beth, her brother, and Pratt had gratified