“Listen. Big Boss thinks the Mexicans will start trouble. Does not know what man is responsible—what man is saying big words and starting trouble. You can help if you find out and tell me who the man is.”
“Yes, can do,” stated the Indian, and as they had approached the upper camp during their talk, he made a swift move of the hand in farewell and slipped swiftly into the shadows.
“Gee, but he went quick,” said Bob to himself, “and I wanted to put him wise to Miguel! Well, he’s gone, so there’s no use bothering. Now to tell Mr. Whitney the dope Ted brought!”
But when he came to it, the front of the Chief’s cottage was dark. A ray of light came from the kitchen and Bob went to the back.
“Where’s the Boss?” he demanded of the Chinaman who served Mr. Whitney. “Gone to bed?”
“Nope. Boss man he gone downside El Paso. Get little yellow tlicket, gone off slam blang!”
From which Bob gathered that a telegram had called the boss from the job and that it was his job to sit up alone with his troubles until the Chief chose to come back.