The passing of the mirror and the candle was the cause of much hilarity, and the room was filled with subdued merriment until there came a peculiar knock on the massive door. The candle flame struggled under a box while voices murmured at the portal, and then there came a cautious shuffling of feet until the box was removed.
Joe Cooper's curious glance became a stare and his jaw dropped. Tearing his eyes from the faces of the villainous four he used them to ask a question of the grinning Enoch which his lips were incapable of framing.
Enoch looked at the four. "One o' ye, who knows who's who, interduce yer friends ter Mr. Cooper, o' St. Louis, Missoury," he suggested.
Hank shoved Jim Ogden a step forward. "This 'Rapahoe is Jim Ogden, o' Bent's Fort an' th' Rockies; this other un is Zeb Houghton, o' th' Louisiana Purchase, Mexico an' Texas; hyar's Tom Boyd, hopin' ter save his ear-tabs; an' I'm—" from his mouth sounded the twang of a bowstring.
Uncle Joe sank down on a pile of smuggled Mackinaw blankets, shoved a cigar in his mouth, lit it and took several puffs before he slammed it on the floor and crushed it with his foot. Then he recovered himself, joyously shook hands all around and started a conversation that scorned the flying minutes. During a lull Alonzo looked shrewdly at the cheerful Indians and put his thoughts into words.
"Boys, anythin' we've got is yourn fer th' askin'," he slowly said; "but I'd hate ter reckon it war through me an' Enoch that ye lost yer lives, an' yer ears. We all war clost friends in Independence an' on th' trail. Clost friends o' yourn air goin' ter be watched like sin from now on. Tom Boyd an' his friends left th' caravan ter go ter Bent's—an' a passel o' greasers went arter 'em hot foot. Mebby th' first gang didn't git ter Bent's—an' it's shore th' greasers ain't showed up yit—not one o' them. Bad as Armijo is he ain't no fool by a danged sight. Fer yer own sakes ye better stay with Armstrong till ye leave th' city. Now that I've warned ye, I don't give a cuss what ye do; yer welcome ter stay hyar till yer bones rot—an' ye know it."
Tom nodded. "Yer right, Alonzo. I just got a brand new reason fer livin' till th' return caravan gits past th' Arkansas. Patience Cooper has got to go with it; she ain't a-goin' ter spend no winter hyar, if I kin help it—an' if she does stay, then I do, too, ears or no ears." His face tensed, his eyes gleaming with hatred through the paint and dirt. "I come nigh ter commitin' murder tonight. 'Twasn't my fault that I didn't."
Hank clapped him on the shoulder and turned to Uncle Joe. "We war all a-lookin' in at th' fandango," he explained. "It war a mighty clost shave fer th' sheep-stealin' shepherd o' Chavez rancho, that growed up ter be governor. If 'twarn't fer th' gal I'd never 'a' grabbed Boyd."
Uncle Joe shook his head. "There'll be trouble comin' out o' that," he declared. "We couldn't do nothin' else, but Armijo'll never rest till he wipes out th' insult o' our turnin' our backs on him an' leavin' like we did. An' did ye see th' look she gave him? D——d if it wasn't worth th' trip from Missouri to see it! Us Americans ain't loved a whole lot out here, an' them blessed Texans has gone an' made things worse. I wish we all were rollin' down to th' Crossin'. Patience is goin' back. I've argued that out, anyhow; right up to th' handle!"
"Get her out of town now," urged Tom, wriggling forward on his box. "Us four'll whisk her up to Bent's, an' jine ye at th' Crossin'."