An’ one thing more,” said Brazos, lowering his voice. “I reckon thet letter will prove my innocence. I got it yesterday mawnin’ at Latimer, which you shore know is a hell of a long day’s ride. An’ if I know anythin’ aboot daid men, young Neece was killed durin’ the day. Hold an inquest, sheriff, an’ make shore what hour thet pore boy was murdered. ‘Cause the whole deal has a look of murder.”

A corridor opened from the office. Kiskadden unlocked the first door on the right, to disclose a small room with one barred window and a blanketed couch. Kiskadden escorted Brazos in.

“Cowboy, you don’t seem to concern yourself aboot why I’m lockin’ you up.”

“Concern? Say, I’m tickled to death. You’re a Texan an’ a man. You’ll see through my part in this deal. But when I get oot—Sheriff, I’m askin’ yu —please get my letter an’ don’t let anyone but yu read it. I shore couldn’t stand thet.”

“We’ll see.” The sheriff went out to close and lock the heavy door.

Brazos lay down on the couch.

Next morning the guards brought his breakfast, and the necessary articles with which to wash and shave.

All morning he was left alone. The fact of the omission of his noon-day meal augured further for his release. At last a slow, clinking step in the corridor ended his wait.

The door opened to admit Kiskadden, who closed and locked It.

“Wal, Brazos,” he drawled. “I’m missin’ my dinner to have a confab with you.”

“Yu know my name?”

“Shore. It’s on the back of this letter. Brazos Keene. Wrote small an’ pretty. I’m glad to tell you no one else has seen it. An’ heah it is.”

“My Gawd, Sheriff, but I could die for yu—savin’ me the shame of disgracin’ a girl once loved,” replied Brazos in grateful emotion.

“Wal, we had two doctors make the inquest on young Neece,” went on Kiskadden. “Our Doc Williamson an’ a surgeon from Denver who was on a train. They found young Neece had been killed early in the evenin’ of thet day you rode oot of Latimer. The bullet bole in his back was shot there after Neece was daid. Both doctors agreed that he had been roped—there were abrasions on his arms above his elbows—an’ jerked off his hawss on his haid. Thet caused his death.”

“Wal, my Gawd!” ejaculated Brazos. “I had no rope on my saddle.”

“Brazos, I was convinced of yore innocence yestiddy, an now I know it. But for your good, you better stay for the hearin’. It’ll show Bodkin up an’ I’ll discharge him pronto. Another angle, it leaked oot thet Surface would jest as lief see you hanged, along with all the grubline cowboys thet ride through.”

“Hell, yu say?” queried Brazos. “I shore didn’t take a shine to him.”

“Surface is new heah.