"I think I'll be jogging along back
to the springs. I reckon these are what you want."
Leroy took them from him and handed them to Neil. "Don't let us
detain you any longer, Mr. Collins. I know you're awful busy
these days."
The sheriff nodded a good day, cut down the hill on the slant,
and disappeared in a mesquit thicket, from the other side of
which he presently emerged astride a bay horse.
The two outlaws retraced their way to the foot of the hill and
remounted their broncos.
"I want to say, cap, that I'm eating humble-pie in big chunks
right this minute," said Neil shamefacedly, scratching his curly
poll and looking apologetically at his former chief. "I might 'a'
knowed you was straight as a string, all I've seen of you these
last two years. If those coyotes say another word, cap--"
An exploding echo seemed to shake the mountain, and then another.
Leroy swayed in the saddle, clutching at his side. He pitched
forward, his arms round the horse's neck, and slid slowly to the
ground.
Neil was off his horse in an instant, kneeling beside him. He
lifted him in his arms and carried him behind a great outcropping
boulder.
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