"It is a good idea, Harry, and we will have to carry it out. I'll need your assistance."
"You shall have it, old man."
So Frank and Harry arranged to bring Putnam and his accuser together that afternoon, it being the day after the assault on Merriwell. Frank was to look out for Kirby while Harry brought Putnam along to the saloon over which Buster Kelley had rooms.
Frank and Kirby were there in advance, and they sat down in a corner, where they were not likely to be observed by anybody who entered.
Kirby's face was cut and scarred where he had felt Frank's hard fists, and the tough looked on the cool lad with genuine respect and admiration.
"I wants yer ter understan' dat I'd never gone inter dat game if I hadn't been hard up an' in a bad way," he said, trying to apologize for himself. "T'ings have been runnin' agin' me, an' I've been on de rocks fer a long time, an' I didn't know how I was ter make a haul any easier dan by breakin' a kid's arm. It warn't no killin' matter nohow, an' so I took der job. I never s'pected I was ter run up agin' anyt'ing like wot you are. If I had, why, wild hosses wouldn't get me ter tried it."
"My enemy knew enough not to meet me himself."
"Dat's right, an' now I want ter git square wid him fer steerin' me up agin' anyt'ing of der sort. Wot yer goin' ter do wid him—break his neck?"
"I have not decided what I shall do, but I shall not lay a hand on him."
"Yer won't?"