Something like a groan escaped from the lips of the injured cowboy. He looked as if he might tumble from the saddle at any instant.
“Sure we can!” said Larkin doggedly. “Come, men! Let’s move on.”
“Well, good luck!” said Huntington carelessly. And then, as if on second thought: “But see here! You fellows look all right to me, and if Haig’s changed his mind, or hasn’t got the cash handy, bring the horse back here, and I’ll talk business with you.”
“Talk business now!” Smith blurted out, averting his eyes from Larkin.
“Very well. I’ll give you five hundred for him––if you don’t want to go any farther. He ain’t worth it, but he’s a kind of a curiosity, and––”
“That ain’t talkin’ business worth a dam’!” cried Larkin. “Come along, men!”
He turned his pony’s head, and took a fresh grip on the halter that held the prisoner. Smith moved also, though slowly, but Raley did not budge.
“I’m damned if I go any further!” he growled.
Smith stopped, and looked uncertainly from Raley to Larkin, from Larkin to Huntington, who was studying him craftily.