"Joe him play game pritty slick," said the Indian. "Same time him get one, two, three drink. That bad. Make um want heap more. Make um take firewater when um git out town."
"So you really got drunk because you were trying[Pg 278] to do me a good turn?" said Merry. "Joe, I appreciate it! But what did you hear?"
"Bill him go to Sunk Hole."
"Sunk Hole?" cried Frank. "That place?"
"Where's that?" asked Hodge, who was deeply interested.
"Down in the White Mountain region, near the head of Coyote Creek."
"Why did you exclaim, 'That place?'"
"Because it is a camp made up of the worst characters to be found in the Southwest. It is a place without law and order of any sort. Murderers, gamblers, and knaves in general flee there when in danger. They are banded together to defy the law. Travelers who happen into that wretched place seldom come forth. At times the ruffians quarrel among themselves and shoot and kill with impunity. The people of the Territory have more than once asked that the place be invaded by troops and wiped off the map. It is a standing disgrace."
"An' Cimarron Bill has gone there?" asked Ephraim Gallup, his eyes bulging.
"So Joe says."