In about half an hour the rancher returned, laden with a heavy bundle of the aforesaid articles, which Ellis shook down on the floor in the corner farthest from the door, subtracting two, however, for old Bryan in the kitchen.
"Yu'll have to bunk down here for th' night," he remarked curtly to the prisoners. "Yu' might as well get down to it right away, an' get all th' sleep yu' can, because it'll be a long trip tomorrow."
Wearily they rolled their coats for pillows, and curled themselves down, dormant murder gleaming in Fisk's somber, brooding eyes as he glanced now and again at the cell door whence issued the untroubled snores of Shorty.
Benton drew Gallagher on one side. "We'll have to do a 'night guard' on these fellers," he whispered. "Guess we'll do two hours apiece. I'll do th' first trick an' hand over th' watch to yu' when I'm through. Yu' go on inta my room there, an' lie on th' bed."
Slowly the night dragged through for the tired, haggard, unkempt watchers. After waking the Sergeant up at eight o'clock, the rancher went out and did the stable chores, and when he returned Ellis cooked breakfast for all hands--taking good care to keep Shorty and old Bryan aloof from their former acquaintances.
As they were finishing the meal there came a knock at the door, and on opening it the policeman was surprised to see Pryce and two other riders outside. Benton closed the door behind him and stepped forward. The rancher seemed oppressed with a certain shamefacedness, and fidgeted nervously with his quirt.
"Sargint," he began. "I guess I kinder riled yu' yesterday--actin' as I did--but I was fair mad, an' I--well, it's that cursed temper o' mine gets th' better o' me. I ask yu' to try an' forgit it."
"Oh, that's all right, Pryce," said Ellis shortly. "I'm glad yu've come around, anyways, as I was just figurin' how I was goin' to get word to yu' to come inta Sabbano." And in a few words he acquainted the other with an account of the previous night's adventures.
"Well, yu' do surprise me!" exclaimed Pryce wonderingly and, with rising wrath: "Why, Big George, an' Scotty--I always give 'em th' run o' my place as if they belonged there, whenever they come a-ridin' around. Why! come to think o' it, three days before my outfit was stole, I 'member meetin' up with Scotty in th' Four-mile coulee; we was both lookin' for strayed stock--an' I mind tellin' him as me an' th' woman figured on drivin' inta Sabbano on th' Thursday, an' he asked me to bring him some Bull-Durham 'baccer from there. Guess I forgot it. Anyways, Big George, he was around about a week afterwards, an' listen! He had th' gall to tell th' woman as how what a dirty deal it was to rustle a feller's outfit, an' what th' parties deserved as did it. Where was them hawsses all th' time, d'yu' think, Sargint, before they sold 'em to th' old man, I mean?"