Part 41 (1/2)

”Can't you trust me any more?” he asked sincerely.

Grasping him by the hand, she looked him fairly and fearlessly in the eye, saying: ”I do trust you. I trust you both.”

As the girl strode out of ear-shot, Slim, absent-mindedly, kept shaking the hand she had held. Awakening suddenly to the fact that his hand was empty, he looked at it curiously, and sighed. Turning quickly, he slapped his hat on his head, hitched up his chaps, and stepped up to Bud, who stood with a sneer on his lips.

”So you're the man that Polly loves,” he said. ”She's a good girl, and she loves a thief.”

Bud turned on him fiercely, drawing his gun. ”Take care!” he warned.

”You won't shoot. If you meant to shoot, you'd 'a' done it long ago, when you pulled your gun,” exclaimed Slim coolly.

”I might do it now.” Bud held his gun against Slim's breast.

Slim threw up his hands to show he was not afraid of the boy. ”Go ahead. Squeeze your hardware. I reckon I'm big enough to kill,” he said.

Then he took Bud's hand and gently slid the revolver back into the holster. The action broke down Bud's bravado. All barriers fell before the simple action.

”It's all up with me,” he said brokenly.

Slim sympathized with the boy in his trouble.

”Buck, he told me. Buck, he 'lowed you had your share of that money,”

he explained.

The boy drew the money from his pocket and handed it to Slim, remarking: ”Here it is--all of it, I never touched it--I was goin'--”

Bud was about to lie again, but he realized the futility of more falsehoods. ”Take it,” he added.

Slim counted the money and slipped it in his pocket.

”Bud,” he said to that young man. ”Me an' you have been pretty good friends, we have. I learned you how to ride--to throw a rope, an'

Bud--Bud--what did you take it for? I know you didn't murder Terrill for it, but what did you keep the money for?” He asked the question with anger and annoyance.

Slim had seated himself by the fire. He spoke to the boy as he would to a comrade.

”Can't you see?” the boy asked. ”Polly. I wanted to make a home for her--and now she'll know me for what I am, a thief--a thief.”

Bud buried his face in his hands, the tears trickling through his fingers, although he fought strongly against showing his weakness.

Slim rose and stepped to his side, laying his hand on the boy's shoulder. ”Mebbe she won't have to know. Buck, he's dead, and only you and I know.”

Bud looked at the speaker in amazement. A lovable smile crept over Slim's face. ”I'm goin',” he said, ”to slip you a new deck, an' give you a fresh deal. That was part my money that was stole. I never came back at the county fer it. Buck, he's paid half. I'll let 'em all think it was the whole. I'll put in a thousan' I have at home, that I was savin' to buy in with the Triangle B, in case I don't git elected nex' time. So, Bud, I'm going to lend a thousan' o' this to you, just to give you a chance at that little home.”

”You're the whitest man I ever knew!” cried Bud.

”I reckon I ain't colored, 'cept a little red mite on top,” laughed Slim. He disliked any show of feeling by the boy over the offer he had made.

”But I can't take your money,” Bud protested.

”Yes, you can,” a.s.sured Slim. ”You pay it back when you get on your feet again. I'm going to take your word.”