mplice in a murder."

McKee looked at him in amazement. This phase of human character was
new to him, trained as he been on the border, where men rarely suffered
remorse and still more rarely displayed it.

"Shucks! I killed him--you didn't have no hand in it," answered Buck.
"This ain't my first killin'. I guess Buck McKee's pretty well known
in some sections. I took all the chances. I did the killin'. You git
half. Now, brace up and take yer medicine straight."

"But I didn't want to take the money for myself," replied Bud, as if to
soothe his conscience. "Oh! Buck, why didn't you let me alone?" he
continued, as the thought of his position again overwhelmed him.

Buck gasped at the shifting of the full blame upon his shoulders.

"Well, I'll be darned!" he muttered. "You make me sick, Kid." His
voice rose in anger and disgust. "Why, to hear you talk, one would
think you was the only one had right feelin's. I'm goin' to take my
share and start a decent life. I'm goin' back to Texas an' open a
saloon. You take your half, marry your gal, and settle down right
here. 'Ole Man' Terrill's dead; nothin' will bring him back, an' you
might as well get the good o' the money. It's Slim Hoover's, anyhow.
If Jack Payson can marry your brother Dick's gal on Dick's money--fer
there's no hope o' stoppin' that now--you can cut Slim out with Polly,
on Slim's salary. Aw, take the money!" and McKee pressed half of the
bills into Bud's lax fingers.

The young man's hand closed upon them mechanically. A vague thought
that he might some day make restitution conspired with McKee's
insidious appeal to his hatred and jealousy to induce him to retain the
blood-money, and he thrust it within an inside pocket of his loose
waistcoat.

"Now," said McKee, thoroughly satisfied that he had involved Bud in the
crime too deeply for him to confess his share in it, "we'll shake
hands, and say 'adios.' Slim Hoover's probably on our track by this
time, but I reckon he'll be some mixed in the trail around the mesa,
and give the job up as a bad one when he reaches the river. I'll show
up on the Lazy K, where the whole outfit will swear I've been fer two
days, if Hoover picks on me as one of the men he's been follerin'.
You're safe. Nobody'd put killin' anybody on to you, let alone your
ole frien' Terrill. Why, yuh ain't a man yet, Bud, though I don't it to
discurrudge yuh. You've made a start, an' some day yuh won't think no
more'n