They met Bud coming with four much-ruffled Meadowlarks, a small, rat-eyed Mexican hustled along in their midst. Bud's eyes were once more snapping with excitement, the others inclined to glassy stares through red and swollen lids.
"Here's the one they call Mex. Took two knives off him, and the boys got a gun. Haven't located Palmer and Bat yet," Bud announced, as the two bankers hurried toward them.
"Aw, they crawled off t' die som'ers!" Tony pompously declared. "We licked 'em to a fare-ye-well. Didn't we lick 'em, boys?"
"Shore enough did," Mark Hanley boasted. "Put 'em both awn the run. One of 'em chawed m' ear off, purty near, but I got 'im."
"Sh'd say we licked 'em!" big Bob boasted. "Now I'm goin' to git drunk."
"Yes, y' betcha!" Jack Rosen approved gravely.
"Betcha they know now who the thieves is an' who the murderers is," Tony cried exultantly. "Told 'em m'self. Called the turn on that boat—made 'em swaller twice, that did! Told 'em I could put m' hands awn—"
"Good Lord!" Bud gave Delkin and Bradley a quick look that had in it a good deal of consternation. "They'll beat it out of the country now. Gone for the loot, and they won't stop short of the Badlands. Tony, you damn' chump, why didn't you keep your face closed?"
"Why? Had t' open it, didn't I, t' swaller a drink er two? Me, I don't drink only with m' eyes, I tell you those! Had t' open m' mouth, anyway—thought I might as well use it. Wha's matter with that? They are thieves an' murderers, ain't they? Told 'em so—licked 'em to a frazzle. Didn't we, boys?"
"Damn' right," three voices growled in chorus.