“But we will!” shouted Carpenter, rushing at him menacingly. The guide put out his foot and dexterously tripped him.
“And, by Judas, yer won’t go in ef he sez not ter!” he growled, placing himself beside Pedro, and cocking his rifle. “Pedro’s my friend, and I’ll stan’ by him ef I hev ter desert the gang ter do it. Jest count me in, Pedro.”
“Let me go in—stand away!” cried Mr. Wheeler, wildly. “I must go in.”
The guide put him back with his hands. “Mr. Wheeler, fur the present yer ’r my boss, and a durned good one yer ’ve be’n, too; but, Pedro an’ me swore ter allus stick to one another, and I’ll stick ter him, and fight the party I’m a member of—that’s Simpson, the guide.”
“Oh, thunder, Simpson! what’s the use of keeping a man in suspense? I’m disgusted with you, for a fact.”
“Cimarron Jack, you an’ me hev run tergether considerable, but I’ll stick ter Pedro, yer may jest bet yer bottom dollar on it! He sez her shain’t go in, and I’ll back every durned thing he says. Ef yer don’t like it yer can lump it!”
Cimarron Jack grew red in the face, and his eyes sparkled. Pedro, knowing a quarrel between these two men would result in the death of one or both of them, hastily said:
“Don’t quarrel—keep cool! I am willing every one should go in—I am even anxious; but I must go in first. That is the reason I kept you back.”
“Wal, why ’n thunder don’t ye go in, then!” demanded Burt. “Thar’s no use in talkin’ all day, is thar? the old gentleman wants ter see his darter—kain’t yer let him in?”
Pedro sheathed his dagger, and saying: