“This Neighbor Jones—I had a letter about him to-day. He’s caught on, someway, that we’ve been workin’ him over in the shop; and he’s layin’ for us, I guess. That big lump that called himself the Kansas City Kid—’twas him that wrote the letter. Jones accused him of cheating and drove him out of town—took his gun, made him leave his clothes, and hike. That’s a dangerous man, Baca. Now I think of it, young Drake quit us at the same time. Jones told him our game was crooked, likely.”
“Them two was together all this forenoon—I seen ’em,” contributed Quinliven. “Is Jones maybe fixing to give you the double cross?”
Baca considered with contracted brow.
“Possibly; but not necessarily so,” he said. “Drake agreed to sell last night. Perhaps he merely got wise to himself—to use his own phrase—and decided to sell out and go home while the going was good. Jones would be his natural associate, the two having been bucking the game together; but Jones expects to get clear of his debt by sticking to me. He could gain nothing by telling Drake. We are too powerful. He knows there is no way to make us disgorge—disgorge is the word, I think, in this connection. I find Jones most amusing, myself. If he wearies me——”
“Don’t you figure Jones for any easy mark,” warned Scanlon. “If he tries to hand us something—look out! He is a bad actor.”
“Leave him to me,” said Baca with a tightening of the lips. “I’ll take measures to improve his acting. Never mind Jones. We have now satisfactorily adjusted the preliminaries, have we not? It is established, I believe, that Mr. Scanlon and myself constitute a clear majority of this meeting. Any objection? In that case, let us now get down to the sad and sordid business before us. It is the sense of the meeting, as I take it, that Mr. Bennett shall bring to this room, by ten o’clock to-morrow—no; to-morrow is Sunday—by ten o’clock on Monday, the purchase money for the Double Dee cattle.”
“Oh-h!” It was a mournful howl, a dog’s hopeless plaint to the moon; emitted, however, by one of the gentlemen present.
“Objection overruled. You will, also, Mr. Bennett, provide twenty-four thousand dollars to satisfy the other equities, here held in the Drake estate.”
Scanlon held up a finger.
“Cash, you moind! No checks or drafts, to be headed off. Coin or greenbacks! I will not be chipracked by this slippery ould man. He is the human greased pig.”