The Mucker

CHAPTER IV. ON THE TRAIL.

CHAPTER IV. ON THE TRAIL.

AS THEY entered the place Billy, who was ahead, sought a table; but as he was about to hang up his cap and seat himself Bridge touched his elbow.

“Let's go to the washroom and clean up a bit,” he said, in a voice that might be heard by those nearest.

“Why, we just washed before we left our room,” expostulated Billy.

“Shut up and follow me,” Bridge whispered into his ear.

Immediately Billy was all suspicion. His hand flew to the pocket in which the g*n of the deputy sheriff still rested. They would never take him alive, of that Billy was positive. He wouldn't go back to life imprisonment, not after he had tasted the sweet freedom of the wide spaces—such a freedom as the trammeled city cannot offer.

Bridge saw the movement.

“Cut it,” he whispered, “and follow