single evening beside a camp-fire has changed foes to partners. Calder drew his mind back to business with a great effort.
"There's one thing you don't know about Jim Silent. A reward of ten thousand dollars lies on his head. The notices aren't posted yet."
Whistling Dan shrugged his shoulders.
"I ain't after money," he answered.
Calder frowned. He did not appreciate a bluff.
"Look here," he said, "if we kill him, because no power on earth will take him alive—we'll split the money."
"If you lay a hand on him," said Dan, without emotion, "we won't be friends no longer, I figger."
Calder stared.
"If you don't want to get him," he said, "why in God's name are you trailing him this way?"
Dan touched his lips. "He hit me with his fist."
He paused, and spoke again with a drawling voice that gave his words an uncanny effect.
"My blood went down from my mouth to my chin. I tasted it. Till I get him there ain't no way of me forgettin' him."
His eyes lighted with that ominous gleam.
"That's why no other man c'n put a hand on him. He's laid out all for me. Understand?"
