THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX
uh that camery sos't we can git t' work! Git!"
The sheriff did not "git" exactly, but he did look considerably embarrassed. His eyes went to Luck apologetically.
"Cashier come to and said you'd called him up on the phone about eleven, claimin' you wanted to make a movin' pitcher of the bank being robbed," he explained—though he was careful not to lower his gun. "He swore it was your men that done the work and took the gold you told him to pile out on the—"
"I told him?" Luck's voice had the sharpened quality that caused laggard actors to jump. "Be a little more exact in the words you use."
"Well-l—somebody on the phone 't he thought was you," the sheriff amended obediently. "Your men—and they sure was your men, because three or four fellers besides the cashier seen 'em goin' in and comin' out—they gagged the cashier and took his keys away from him and cleaned the safe, besides taking what gold he'd piled on the counter for y—for 'em.
"So," he finished vigorously, "I an' my men hit the trail fer the ranch and was told by the
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