The Sheriff's Son
"He's deviling me all the time," Meldrum complained to the owner of the horse ranch. "I ain't a-going to stand it."
Rutherford looked at the prisoner, a lean, hard-bitten Westerner with muscles like steel ropes and eyes unblinking as a New Mexico sun. His engaging recklessness had long since won the liking of the leader of the Huerfano Park outlaws.
"Don't bank on that golden egg business, Dave," advised Rutherford. "If you tempt the boys enough, they 're liable to forget it. You 've been behaving mighty aggravating to Dan."
"Me!" Dave opened his eyes in surprise. "I was just asking him how he'd like to go back to Santa Fé after you-all turn me loose."
"We 're not going to turn you loose till we reach an agreement. What's the use of being pigheaded? We 're looking for that gold and we 're going to find it mighty soon. Now be reasonable."
"How do you know you 're going to find it?"
"Because we know you could n't have taken it far. Here's the point. You had it when Fox made his getaway. Beulah was right behind you, so we know you did n't get a chance to bury it between there and town. We covered
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