“Every way in the world. Scout out on ahead. It’s hard for me to keep my fingers on you, you shift about so much; but if you help me break up the T. L. herd there’ll be everything in it for you that you will ever want in life.
“Of course, you know I kept awful quiet. It’s a long way out to the edge of the Staked Plains, and only a few cowmen are in there now. But the lands I have got my eye on are covered with vine mesquite like a carpet, or with bunch grass almost as good. That’s the coming cattle range, once the Comanches are off of it. That’s where I am locating our lands. I want a million acres more of scrip.
“And to think,” he added, “what all of that hangs on! Leave them alone and they may find Abilene, for all I know. I am taking no chances about that—that’s why I want you. I want you to go on north and find that outfit.
“We’ll cross the river in the morning.”
Again he resumed his pacing and his cursing, in one of the moods during which he really was out of his own mind. He was well in his cups almost all the time.
McMasters turned toward him suddenly.
“You carry fire a long time, don’t you?” said he.
“I never had any one oppose me yet that didn’t get the worst of it,” replied the outlaw, ever serene in his conceit.
McMasters smiled.
“Not even Burleson Lockhart?”