He recognized the
horse and a moment later the rider now waving his hat to him, and knew
that it was Two-Hand Billy Comstock returning. He turned and rode slowly
to meet the officer.
"Back already, Comstock?" he called carelessly. "What luck?"
"Bully luck," grinned Comstock, replacing his hat and looking as fresh
and well groomed as though he were but this minute up from bed and a
long sleep. "First let me tell you the news." He slipped his hand into
his breast pocket and took out an envelope. "More mail for you,
Thornton! You're doing a big correspondence, it seems to me!"
In spite of him a quick flush ran up to Thornton's brow. For his first
thought was that Winifred Waverly....
"Wrong guess, Buck," chuckled Comstock, his good humour seemingly
flowing from an inexhaustible source. "It's from a man."
"Who?" demanded Thornton sharply, putting out his hand.
Comstock's amusement welled up into open laughter.
"It's a prime joke of the Fates," he cried cheerfully. "Here is William
Comstock, United States Deputy Marshal, carrying a message from no less
a person than Jimmie Clayton, jail bird, crook and murderer! A man
wanted in two states!"
"Clayton!" said Thornton in amazement. "You don't mean to tell me.
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