Jack Roberts, spurs jingling, walked into the office of his chief.
Ellison looked up, leaned back in his chair, and tugged at his goatee. "Well, Tex, you sure were thorough. Four men in the Dinsmore outfit, an' inside o' two days three of 'em dead an' the fourth a prisoner. You hit quite a gait, son."
"I've come to resign," announced the younger man.
"Well, I kinda thought you'd be resignin' about now," said the Captain with a smile. "Weddin' bells liable to ring right soon, I reckon."
"Not mine," replied Roberts.
Somehow, in the way he said it, the older man knew that the subject had been closed.
"Goin' to take that job Clint offered you?"
"No." Jack snapped out the negative curtly, explosively.
Another topic closed.
"Just quittin'. No reasons to offer, son?"
"Reasons a-plenty. I've had man-huntin' enough to last me a lifetime. I'm goin' to try law-breakin' awhile for a change."
"Meanin'?"
"You can guess what I mean, Captain, an' if you're lucky you'll guess right. Point is, I'm leavin' the force to-day."
"Kinda sudden, ain't it, Tex?"
"At six o'clock to-night. Make a note of the time, Captain. After that I'm playin' my own hand. Understand?"
"I understand you're sore as a thumb with a bone felon. Take yore time, son. Don't go off half-cocked." The little Captain rose and put his hand on the shoulder of the boy. "I reckon things have got in a sort of kink for you. Give 'em time to unravel, Tex."
The eyes of the Ranger softened. "I've got nothin' against you, Captain. You're all there. We won't go into any whyfors, but just let it go as it stands. I want to quit my job--right away. This round-up of the Dinsmores about cleans the Panhandle anyhow."
"You're the doctor, Tex. But why not take yore time? It costs nothin' Tex to wait a day or two an' look around you first."
"I've got business--to-night. I'd rather quit when I said."
"What business?" asked Ellison bluntly. "You mentioned law-breakin'. Aimin' to shoot up the town, are you?"
"At six to-night, Captain, my resignation takes effect."
The little man shrugged. "I hear you, Jack. You go off the pay-roll at six. I can feel it in my bones that you're goin' to pull off some fool business. Don't run on the rope too far, Jack. Everybody that breaks the law looks alike to my boys, son."
"I'll remember."
"Good luck to you." Ellison offered his hand.
Roberts wrung it. "Same to you, Cap. So long."
The young man walked downtown, ate his dinner at the hotel, and from there strolled down to the largest general store in town. Here he bought supplies enough to last for a week--flour, bacon, salt, sugar, tobacco, and shells for rifle and revolvers. These he carried to his room, where he lay down on the bed and read a month-old Trinidad paper.