Shorty Smith raised himself up on his elbow.
"A special what!" he demanded, while a sort of stillness swept the circle.
"A special officer of the law," replied the boy, with cool importance. "Dave an' me had supper with him. He's a pretty good sort of a feller."
"Nice company you've been in," observed Shorty.
"Your grandmother always said you'd come to some bad end," drawled Long Bill. An uneasy laugh went around, then absolute silence prevailed for several minutes. The old squaw seemed to be muttering under her breath. Finally she shifted her savage gaze from the outer blackness to the faces about her camp-fire.
"Turn cowards for one man!" she exclaimed scornfully.
"Well, Harris is in there dead drunk, and what're we goin' to do without him, anyhow?" exclaimed Long Bill.
"He might not approve," supplemented Shorty Smith.
"That's right; I ain't wantin' no such responsibility on my shoulders, just now," declared the large fellow.
"We'll postpone matters," decided Shorty. "I ain't after such responsibility myself, you can bet your life!"