www.freeclassicebooks.com

Harding was going with them. He had listened to Barbara's pleas, and had finally

volunteered to back Billy Byrne's flight from the jurisdiction of the law, or at least

to a place where, under a new name, he could start life over again and live it as

the son-in-law of old Anthony Harding should live.

Among the crowd viewing the havoc wrought by the raiders the previous night

was a large man with a red face. It happened that he turned suddenly about as

Billy Byrne was on the point of passing behind him. Both men started as

recognition lighted their faces and he of the red face found himself looking down

the barrel of a six-shooter.

"Put it up, Byrne," he admonished the other coolly. "I didn't know you were so

good on the draw."

"I'm good on the draw all right, Flannagan," said Billy, "and I ain't drawin' for

amusement neither. I gotta chance to get away and live straight, and have a little

happiness in life, and, Flannagan, the man who tries to crab my game is goin' to

get himself croaked. I'll never go back to stir alive. See?"

"Yep," said Flannagan, "I see; but I ain't tryin' to crab your game. I ain't down

here after you this trip. Where you been, anyway, that you don't know the war's

over? Why Coke Sheehan confessed a month ago that it was him that croaked

Schneider, and the governor pardoned you about ten days ago."

"You stringin' me?" asked Billy, a vicious glint in his eyes.

"On the level," Flannagan assured him. "Wait, I gotta clippin' from the Trib in my

clothes somewheres that gives all the dope."

He drew some papers from his coat pocket and handed one to Billy.

Turn your back and hold up your hands while I read," said Byrne, and as

Flannagan did as he was bid Billy unfolded the soiled bit of newspaper and read

that which set him a-trembling with nervous excitement.

A moment later Detective Sergeant Flannagan ventured a rearward glance to note

how Byrne was receiving the joyful tidings which the newspaper article contained.

Well, I'll be!" ejaculated the sleuth, for Billy Byrne was already a hundred yards

away and breaking all records in his dash for the sitting-room he had quitted but

a few minutes before.

It was a happy and contented trio who took the train the following day on their

way back to New York City after bidding Bridge good-bye in the improvised

304

The Mucker