Laramie having told Van Horn to mount, turned to the Texas men: "Which one of you boys wants to carry the rifles over to that big cottonwood for me?" he asked, pointing toward the creek.
"I do," responded the nearest man, promptly.
"Don't you do it, Tex," called out Stone.
The Texan eyed his foreman: "Why not?" he demanded. "Ain't I been ridin' this country all day with a man squealin' for a drink as loud as I was, an' had his pocket full of it all the time? I'm through with my job."
Laramie broke in without losing the precious moment: "Who set my house on fire, Tex?" he demanded.
The Texan nodded in Stone's direction: "Ask him."
"He'd lie, Tex; I'm askin' you."
The rawboned horseman hesitated: "I'll talk that over with you when I'm rested," he drawled.
"Go get your Colt's out of the wagon, Tex." Laramie pointed the way. "Pick out the guns of the other two boys and tote them over to that tree with you. The boys'll ride over there after you. Tell Barb I'll give him twenty-four hours to get every hoof, round or split, that belongs to me back to the Falling Wall—failing which I'll be over to talk to him privately. Will you do that, Tex?"
"I sure will."