“I’ve no objection; but didn’t I hear a gun go off a few minutes ago? What was you shooting at?”
“It wasn’t I––someone shot at me.”
And thereupon Avon related the particulars of his encounter with the treacherous horseman. Gleeson listened and said nothing until 243 he had finished. Then, with a characteristic exclamation, he expressed his regret that Thunderbolt should have stumbled as he did.
“Keep your eyes open,” he added. “I’ll do the same, and we’ll get the drop on him soon.”
“Why does he want to hurt me?” asked Avon, “when there has never been a word between us?”
“It’s the nature of the animal,” was the reply. “It wouldn’t have made any difference whether it was you or me, so he thought he had a sure thing of it. That’s what he’s here for.”
It was evident from these words that each of the speakers was satisfied as to the identity of the one that had fired the well-nigh fatal shot. Gleeson named him immediately.
“I warned the cap, when he hired that Comanche, that we would have trouble with him. We left Texas a little short-handed, but we could have got through well enough without him. Howsumever, Shackaye, as 244 you remember, rode into camp one day and asked the cap to give him a job, and the cap done it.”
“I recall your words about him, and I thought they were not justified; but what made you so suspicious?”
The Texan uttered an impatient exclamation.