The Sheriff's Son
point reluctantly. He flashed a question at Rutherford. "Tighe will murder him. That's sure. You going to let him?"
"Not if I can help it. I'm going to send young Beaudry out of the park."
"Fine. Don't lose any time about it, Hal."
The Huerfano Park rancher made one more attempt to shake his prisoner. His dark eyes looked straight into those of Dingwell.
"Old-timer, what about you? I ain't enjoying this any more than you are. But it's clear out of my hands."
"Then why worry?" asked Dingwell, a little grin on his drawn face.
"Hell! What's the use of asking that? I'm no Injun devil," barked Rutherford irritably.
"Turn me loose and I 'll forget all I've seen. I won't give you the loot, but I 'll not be a witness against you."
The Huerfano Park ranchman shook his head. "No, we want that gold, Dave. You butted into our game and we won't stand for that."
"I reckon we can't make a deal, Hal."
The haggard eyes of the starving man were hard as tungsten-washed steel. They did not yield a jot.
A troubled frown dragged together the shaggy
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