He's deader'n hell, but I thought you might like to look through his pockets." Wid Gardner unemotionally accompanied them into the room of the barracks where, on a couple of boards, between two carpenter's trestles, lay a long figure covered with a blanket.
"Scout Gardner got him last night about nine o'clock, sir," said the Sergeant; "out in the lane behind the gate.

Called to him to halt, and he didn't stop." "He didn't have no chanct to halt," said Wid Gardner calmly.

"I hollered that to him after I had dropped him.

He wasn't the one I was after, neither." "The rest of them got away," went on the Sergeant.

"We heard the shot when we was just coming down the road.