One slid a sudsy bit of soap down another's back. The other straightened up in a wild attempt to corral the slippery scrap, when he stiffened and pointed down the road towards Metzal.
"It's Jackson! In a Lizzie!" he shouted. "Bet the Pinto throwed him an' run off!"
"Throwed Jackson, nothin'!" said another, "but he might be hurt. "
The surmise was disproved by Jackson leaping from the car and hurrying on his high heels towards Sheridan, whom he drew aside. The car backed and sped back to town in a whirl of dust.
"I had to kidnap him to bring me," said Jackson. He's got a job to drive a party to Pioche. But I didn't have any time to waste an' the pinto had to throw a shoe. Rand's bringin' him. "
"What is it? Ghost Mountain?"
"Yep. The boys got hold of Old Yuni, thet ha'f dippy Navajo. Got him drunk an' talkin' about Ghost Mountain. He knows the way in an' they got it out of him—most of it ennyway. Yuni believes in the ghosts, all right. He claims they was an Injun tribe massacred there by the Paches, centimes back. His tribe, maybe. The ghosts are still on the job. Hollister was tryin' to git him drunk enough to lead 'em. The gang was all down to Vasquez'."
"Who told you this?"
"Juanita. Oh, it's straight goods, all right. I know she's stuck on Hollister. I reckon he ought to have married her. She come to Metzal to look him up. She's jealous as a wildcat. Hollister must have
