"Let's leave him," nodded Jack Ready, amused by the consternation of the old fellow.
"Derned ef we don't!" cried Gallup.
Upon which the "guide" became greatly alarmed, begging them for the love of goodness not to leave him there in the mountains to die alone.
"But you're a guide," said Hodge. "You would be able to get out all right."
"Boysh," said the old toper, "I got a 'fession to make."
"What is it?"
"I ain't been in the guidin' bushiness for shome time. I'm a leetle rusty; jest a bit out o' practish. That's whazzer mazzer."
"Why didn't you say so in the first place? What made you lie to us?"
"Boysh, I needed the moneysh. Hones' Injun, I needed the moneysh bad. Been a long time shince I've had all the whisky I could hold. Great treat f' me."
Bart was disgusted, but Jack Ready was inclined to look at the affair in a humorous light.