"Gone to Brownsville," replied the herdsman, who was in a very bad humor. "As soon as I knocked Philip down, he packed up an' cleared himself. I have since found out that he went over to Gilbert's and left money enough with him to pay for this hoss an' for the cattle that were shot."
"Who is cook now that Philip has gone?"
"I am," said Bob, gruffly.
"Well, then, show us what you can do in that line, by serving up a good breakfast in a little less than no time," said George, paying no attention to Bob's black looks. "I, for one, shall bring a sharp appetite to it. Jake, see that these three horses are fed, and pick out a good one for me to ride over to Mr. Gilbert's. Ranger I shall never see again. I left him in the hands of the guerrillas, and I suppose he is on his way to Queretaro before this time. Come in, gentlemen."
Bob scowled savagely at George's guests as they passed, and as soon as he saw them enter the hall, he walked slowly into the kitchen. His first move was to take down from a nail in the wall a broad belt containing a brace of navy revolvers. This he buckled about his waist, after which he began his preparations for breakfast. When Jake came in, having attended to the horses that had been entrusted to his care, he proceeded to arm himself in the same manner. Then he threw himself into the nearest chair and assumed a sort of dogged, defiant air as if he were waiting for something to turn up.
What was the meaning of these warlike preparations? Why, one of the ranchemen had called George the champion liar, and that, according to a Texan's code, was a mortal offence. Explanations and apologies would not make amends for it; nothing but a fight could do that. Jake and Bob thought that the affray ought to have come off at once; and after they had satisfied George's wounded honor by putting a bullet or two into each of the visitors, then they would have invited them to breakfast, but not before. However, the matter could be brought to a settlement when the visitors went away, and the herdsmen were both determined that it should be done. But George, being a Texan himself and understanding the customs of the country, was on the alert. Having conducted the ranchemen into the sitting-room, which Uncle John had furnished in such gorgeous style, he excused himself for a moment and hurried into the kitchen. The countenances of the two men he found there lighted up as he entered, but fell again when George, pointing to the revolvers, said quietly—
"Pull those things off!"
"But, Mr. George," began Jake.
"Pull those things off!" repeated the boy. "I know what you mean by this nonsense, but I shall not allow my guests to be insulted in any such way. You'd look nice, wouldn't you, Bob, waiting at table with a brace of navy revolvers strapped about your waist? Why, those men in there could use you up in a minute."
"Wal, I'd see that the buffalo gnats didn't bother 'em none while they was a doin' it," replied Bob, sullenly.