Then
he pushes on deeper into Chihuahua, and proceeds to lose himself
there by changing his name."
"You think he murdered Dave?" The cattleman got up and began to
pace up and down the floor.
"I think it possible."
Webb Mackenzie's face was pallid, but there was a new light of
hope in it. "I believe you're right. God knows I hope so. That
may sound a horrible thing to say of my best friend, but if it
has got to be one or the other--if it is certain that my old
bunkie came to his death foully in Chihuahua while trying to save
my baby, or is alive to-day, a skulking coward and villain--with
all my heart I hope he is dead." He spoke with a passionate
intensity which showed how much he had cared for his early
friend, and how much the latter's apparent treachery had cut him.
"I hope you'll never have a friend go back on you, Mr. O'Connor,
the one friend you would have banked on to a finish. Why, Dave
Henderson saved my life from a bunch of Apaches once when it was
dollars to doughnuts he would lose his own if he tried it. We
were prospecting in the Galiuros together, and one mo'ning when
he went down to the creek to water the hawsses he sighted three
of the red devils edging up toward the cabin.
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