“Then when he has learned of what took place, he and his warriors will be more watchful than before.”
“Thar can be no doubt of that,” replied the trapper, with an impressive nod of his head; “I wouldn’t be afeard to try it alone if thar war twice as many, but I won’t be able to manage it with the younker.”
“What shall be done?”
“You may shoot me if I know; I’ve been figgerin’ over the bus’ness for the last hour and can’t make nothin’ of it.”
But Rickard had a proposition to make. It was a singular one, but he was in earnest and would have kept his part as faithfully as he knew the other parties would keep their pledge.
“You can get back to Strubell and Lattin if you try it alone; do that, and then all of you come in here with me. I will be on the lookout so that you can dash right through the door as soon as you reach it.”
The curious feature about this proposition is that while it was the most feasible that could be thought of, it displayed a certain chivalry on the part of the horse thieves, which would have struck anyone as inconsistent with the character of the one making it.
“It’s the idea,” said old Eph, after thinking it over for a few seconds; “now, if you’ll fetch the younker so that I can have a few words with him, I’ll be ready to start back; I’d like to be able to tell his friends that I seen him again and spoke to him.”
“Of course,” said Rickard, turning to Slidham and saying something in so low a tone that the sharp-eared trapper could not catch the words. The fellow, who had simply held his peace, smoked and listened, nodded his head, rose, and passed through the open door into the courtyard. Eph heard his footsteps on the adobe pavement, which had been trod and seasoned during the past century into a hardness like that of the walls themselves.