Henderson evidently knew where he was going, for he went at a tremendous rate until nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, stopping only twice at some little streams that he crossed to allow his horse time to get a drink, and then he rode into a belt of timber where he found Coyote Bill waiting for him. He had two men there with him as a body-guard. Henderson got off his horse, removed his saddle, and turned the animal loose before he said a word. Bill was watching him all the time, and concluded that he had some bad news.
“Well,” said he impatiently, “as soon as you get ready to speak let us hear from you.”
“I can easily think of myself as being fooled in this way, but for a man like you, who makes his living by cheating other folks, I don’t see any excuse at all for it!” said Henderson, as he threw himself on the ground beside Bill. “We have lost the pocket-book!”
“Did those boys find it?” asked the man, starting up in amazement.
“Yes, sir; they have found it! I have seen the will.”
“Why, how in the name of common sense did they find it?” said Bill, who could not believe that his ears were not deceiving him. “And you have seen the will?”
“Yes, I have. Everything goes to that boy, dog-gone the luck!”
“Tell us all about it. I don’t understand it.”
“You know we saw them when we got to the ranch, and they found the pocket-book. That’s all I know about it. When they returned they found me trying to sell the cattle to some of the outfit, and they produced the will. I saw it and read a portion of it.”
“Well, you are a pilgrim, and that’s a fact. Why didn’t you destroy the will? I’ll bet you that if they showed me the will they would never see it again.”