"That sheepman was right, boys," observed Winchester soberly, as they sat mounted and waiting to go. "If we'd had the nerve we'd've done this long ago and never have called him in. He's gone now, thank God, and we're back where we started from; but you know them Scarboroughs—we're next."
"Yes, you're right, son," quavered Old Henry, "they're dead sot agin us—they're determined to wipe us out. I've allus been peaceable but a man must protect himself, only don't take no chances with Isham. You head for him first, Winchester, and let Sharps take on Red, and Bill can shore clean up on Elmo!"
"Yes, you bet I can," cursed Bill, "but the cowardly whelp is fixing to ride back home."
"They're all going," growled Sharps, and reined his horse out the gate. "Come on," he said, "let's rush 'em!"
"Nope," vetoed Old Henry, "you want to be keerful, boys; and remember your old dad and mammy. Jest ride out slow and hold up your guns; and if they don't come out they're cowards."
"No use," grumbled Winchester as the Scarboroughs galloped off, "you couldn't high-life that outfit and make 'em fight. But come on, boys, anyway; let's go over to the store and lay in a little grub and tobacco."
"I'll go with you," spoke up Hall, who had been chafing for action, and he swung up on his waiting roan.
"Well, all right," smiled Winchester, "you seem to be willing, if you ain't drawing a gunman's pay. And anything we can do for you——"
"Don't mention it!" smiled back Hall, and they rode off together, for already they had come to be friends.