“It is moved and seconded that Mr. John Wesley Pringle be elected—er—Sole Electee of the Most Ancient Society of Good Men and True,” said Leo. “All in favor will rise or remain seated. Contrary-minded are not members and will kindly leave the room. It is unanimously carried and so ordered. Gentlemen, Mr. Pringle!”
“The Society will come to order,” said the Sole Electee severely. “Some good man and true will please state the object of the permanent session and, also, how and why and what he proposes to do first.”
“Hadn’t we better get some detectives to work,” ventured Billy, “and join forces with Tillotson’s lawyers?”
“No detectives,” said Pringle hastily and decidedly. And “No lawyers,” echoed George with equal decision, adding: “Please excuse Mr. Pringle and myself from giving the reasons for our respective vetoes. But they are good ones.”
“Then we are to depend on our own resources alone?” demanded Leo.
“Exactly. That’s the way the farmer in the second reader got in his wheat. Let us by all means have Fools for Clients and Every Man His Own Detective; that’s what makes the guilty quail,” said Pringle darkly. “If we four can’t do the trick for love, no man can do it for hire. And there will be no defalcation or failure for fear, favor or funds or through any fatal half-heartedness. We four friends for our friend unconditionally, without regard for law or the profits, man or devil, death, debt, disgrace or damnation! To the last ditch—and then some!”
Pringle reflected a little. “Gentlemen,” he said, “we will put our little ad. in the papers to-night, at once, muy pronto and immediatamente. After which I should think a good sleep would be the one first wise move. We will then sally forth, or Sarah forth, in pursuit of knowledge in general, both in El Paso and in Juarez—vulgarly called Whereas—and, more especially, knowledge of Messrs. Thorpe and Patterson and all fat men with whom they do consort. To avoid giving any slightest ground for suspicion—which must be avoided at all hazards—I will disguise myself as a bald-headed, elderly cattleman from Rainbow. Mr. Aughinbaugh——”
“Mister? George, you mean,” said that person.
“George, then. George, you will masquerade as a lawyer’s clerk. Billy, you’d better buy a haircut and canvas leggings and get yourself up as a reformed Easterner in the act of backsliding. And you, Leo”—he paused and regarded Ballinger doubtfully—“You,” he said, and stopped again, with a puzzled frown. The unhappy victim writhed and twisted, thus held up to public scorn and derision as neither fish, flesh, nor herring.
“I have it,” said the poor nondescript, with a brave attempt at a smile. “I’ll buy some clothes, some booze and a stack of blues—and pass myself off for a Remittance Man.”