Schoolcraft said something out of the corner of his mouth and the group melted away into the little shack at the corral gate. He remained where he was, scowling frankly at his enemy.
"Looks like they war a-fixin' ter try it on us," growled Hank, returning the scowl with interest. "Let's go over an' say how-de-do ter 'em. This here town's been too peaceable, anyhow."
"What's th' trouble?" asked Ogden, curiously, his partner pressing against him to hear the answer.
"Ain't none," answered Tom. "Thar might 'a' been, but it's blowed over."
"Wall," drawled Ogden. "Ye never kin tell about these hyar frontier winds. Yer th' partisan o' this hyar expedition, Tom. We'll foller yer lead. It's all one ter us whar ye go; we're with ye."
Schoolcraft, knowing that trouble with these plainsmen would almost certainly end in serious bloodshed, shrugged his shoulders and entered the shack; and after him, from behind the corral wall darted the slender Mexican.
"Thar!" exclaimed Tom, pointing. "See that greaser? Keep yer eyes skinned fer him. He's bad medicine."
"Looks like he war fixin' fer ambushin' us, hidin' behind that wall," growled Hank.
"He's got a fine head o' hair ter peel," snorted Zeb Houghton, whose reputation in regard to scalp lifting was anything but to his credit. The fingers of his left hand closed involuntarily with a curling motion and the wrist turned suggestively; and the Mexican, well back from the dirty window of the shack, felt a rising of his stomach and was poor company for the rest of the day.
The four swung on again, Ogden and his partner soon leaving the party to go to their quarters, while Tom and Hank went on along the street and stopped at another horse-dealer's, where they bought two riding horses and eight broken-in mules, the latter covered with scars. The horses were broken to saddle and would carry them over the trail; two of the mules were to carry their necessaries and the other six their small stock of merchandise, which they now set out to obtain. In procuring the latter they were very fortunate, for they found a greenhorn who had paid too much attention to rumors and had decided at the last moment that trail life and trading in the far west did not impress him very favorably; and he sold his stock to them almost at their own terms, glad to get out of his venture so easily. They took what they wanted of it and then sold the remainder at a price which nearly paid for their own goods. Leaving their purchases at Uncle Joe's wagons under the care of his teamsters, they went to his hotel to spend the night.