"Doesn't seem to worry you," said Stanley.

"No. I'm leaving town. I'm through with this game."

"Getting too hot?"

"No. I'm getting cold feet," said Waring, laughing. "And say, Stanley,
I may need a little money to-morrow."

"Any time, Jim."

Waring nodded. Back in his room he sat for a while on the edge of the
bed, gazing at the curtained window. Life had gone stale. He was sick of
hunting men and of being hunted. Pedro Salazar was now a member of the
Sonora police through Donovan's efforts. Eventually Salazar would find
an excuse to shoot Waring. And the gunman had made up his mind to do no
more killing. For that reason he had spared Vaca and had befriended
Ramon. He decided to leave Sonora.

Presently he rose and dressed in his desert clothes. As he went through
his pockets he came upon the little silver crucifix and transferred it,
with some loose change, to his riding-breeches. He turned out the light,
locked the room from the outside, and strode out of the hotel.

At the livery-stable, he asked for his horse. The man in charge told him
that Dex had been taken by the police. That the Señor Bill Donovan and
Pedro Salazar had come and shown him a paper,--he could not read,--but
he knew the big seal. It was Pedro Salazar who had ridden the horse.