And VB answered, "Then I guess we all understand one another."
When the three had ridden away Jed shoved his Colt tight into its holster again and looked at the young chap with foreboding.
"There'll be trouble, VB; they're bad," he said. "He's a coward. The story'll go round an' he'll try to get you harder 'n ever. If he don't, those others will—will try, I mean. Matson and Julio are every bit as bad as Rhues, but they ain't quite got his fool nerve.
"They're a thievin' bunch, though it ain't never been proved. Nobody trusts 'em; most men let 'em alone an' wait fer 'em to show their hand. They've been cute; they've been suspected, but they ain't never got out on a limb. They've got a lot to cover up, no doubt. But they've got a grudge now. An' when cowards carry grudges—look out!"
"If a man like Rhues were all I had to fear, I should never worry," VB muttered, weak again after the excitement. "He's bad—but there are worse things—that you can't have the satisfaction of knocking down."
And his conspiring nostrils smelled whisky in that untainted air.
CHAPTER XIV
The Schoolhouse Dance
Young VB held a twofold interest for the men of Clear River. First, the story of his fight with the Captain spread over the land, percolating to the farthest camps. Men laughed at first. The absurdity of it! Then, their surprise giving way to their appreciation of his attainment, their commendation for the young Easterner soared to superlatively profane heights.