“That all I’m to do?” asked Burton, quietly.
“Sure, that’s all there is to it—except this.”
Munford’s hand closed on his companion’s arm in a tight, spasmodic grip as Pete’s emissary produced a wad of bills and began to peel off the outer ones.
“Three hundred plunks,” said the man, extending the money he had abstracted from the roll to Burton. “Pretty good for just firin’ a man we’ve been lookin’ for you to fire for the last week, anyway. Besides, there’s been some talk down at headquarters about you not bein’ able to handle your men, and about them gettin’ someone that can. Pete says not to bother about that, he’ll fix it for you. Here, take the money.”
“Suppose I fired him,” said Burton, slowly, “where’d he go?”
“What do you care where he goes, so long as you get rid of him?”
“He couldn’t go West,” went on Burton, paying no attention to the other’s remark; “so he’d have to go East—that’s Big Cloud—and murder!” He turned fiercely, savagely on the man. “You dirty, low-lived hound!” he flashed. “You offer me three hundred dollars to murder a man, do you? You wonder why I’ve stood for what I did, do you, you scrimp! Fire him, eh, to get a cowardly knife or shot in his back! You think I didn’t know what would happen if I let him out, eh? Get out of here, you cur! And get out now—while you can!” Burton’s voice rasped, hoarse with passion. He turned abruptly away and strode quickly in the direction of the camp.
“Hold on, wait a minute, Burton,” cried the other, following him. “Don’t get batty.”
Unconsciously Munford had tightened his grip on McGuire’s arm until the latter whimpered with the pain, and now Munford lifted him bodily to his feet making cautiously for the spot where the horse was standing. The two figures were still discernible, and Burton’s angry voice continued to reach the listeners, though the words were now indistinguishable.
Munford’s face in the moonlight was colorless, the muscles around his mouth twitched convulsively. “D’ye hear what they said? D’ye hear what they said? My God! d’ye hear it all?” he was mumbling incoherently in McGuire’s ear, his eyes strained up the road.