Then I'll ride up to the
camp with you."
Buck drew a long puff on his cigarette. He drew a quick mental picture
of Purvis entering the house, finding Dan, and then--
"Sure," he said, "you c'n go back to the house an' ask pa for the gun,
if you want to. I'll keep on for the hills."
"What's your hurry? It ain't more'n three miles back to your house.
You won't lose no time to speak of."
"It ain't time I'm afraid of losin'," said Buck significantly.
"Then what the devil is it? I can't afford to leave that gun."
"All right," said Buck, forcing a grin of derision, "so long, Hal."
Purvis frowned at him with narrowing eyes.
"Spit it out, Buck. What's the matter with me goin' back for that gun?
Ain't I apt to find it?"
"Sure. That's the point. You're apt to find _lots_ of guns. Here's
what I mean, Hal. Some of the cowpunchers are beginnin' to think I'm a
little partial to Jim Silent's crowd. An' they're watchin' my house."
"The hell!"
"You're right. It is. That's one of the reasons I'm beatin' it for the
hills."
He started his horse to a walk. "But of course if you're bound to have
that gun, Hal--"
Purvis grinned mirthlessly, his lean face wrinkling to the eyes, and
he swung his horse in beside Buck.
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