“You look like a man who could sit a horse.”
“I know it; but they buck and jump so that they throw me right off. When I was in the mines I devoted myself entirely to work.”
“Well, I will tell you what I will do. I can find some work for you around the ranch that you can turn your hand to.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“It won’t be much—like making the beds, for instance. Besides, you look completely exhausted. You can stay here until you somewhat recover yourself and make some enquiries among the cowboys, and perhaps you will learn something about your partner. I am determined to know what you are at,” added Mr. Davenport to himself. “Can it be that you are any ways implicated with Clifford Henderson? Well, I have got my will made out, and I will see what you will do to it.”
Thus it came about that Coyote Bill became an inmate of Mr. Davenport’s house. When the cowboys came in at supper time he was as respectful to them as he was to Mr. Davenport, addressed them all as “sir,” when he was speaking to them, and by giving them a sharp look when they came in made up his mind that there was no one among them who recognized him. He looked them squarely in the eye when he talked to them, and listened while they told him of the men who lived beyond them. There was no Mr. Faber in the lot. He must be inside of them somewhere.
“What do you think of that fellow, Lem?” asked Frank, as the two met under the trees to smoke their evening pipe. They had left Bill in the house and he was busy at work with the dishes.
“He is here for no good, that’s what I think of him,” said Lem, seating himself under the nearest tree. “He has been out to Denver, and came out here to find somebody he never heard of. He never had a pardner named Faber, and what do you think of his going into a mine that extended twelve hundred feet under the ground? I tell you he has never been near Denver.”
“And he can’t ride!” added Frank. “I see the marks on his boots where he has had spurs on. I tell you he wants to be mighty careful how he acts around here.”
“Do you mind them six-shooters he’s got?”