“I lay it to his illness as much as anything. Like all persons who are troubled with an incurable disease, he thinks something will happen to take him off the minute he adopts Bob, and I tell you it’s a lucky thing for us. Well, what do you say?”
“I don’t propose to go into this thing until I know how much there is to be made out of it,” I answered, as if I had half a mind to go into it. “How much are you going to get?”
“I am not going to take my pay in half-starved cattle, I tell you,” said Johnson emphatically. “The old man has a few thousand dollars in bonds in some bank or another,—I don’t know which one it is,—and when I get that pocket-book in my hands I shall get some of those bonds. I won’t let it go without it. He ought to give you as much as he gives me.”
“How much are you going to get?” I said again.
“Twenty thousand dollars; and what I want more than anything else is that pocket-book. He has got his will in there, and I must have that before anything is done. Now, if you can steal that pocket-book and give it to me, I’ll see that you are well paid for your trouble. If Henderson gives you five thousand dollars it would go a long way toward straightening up your cattle business.”
“Well, I want some time to think about it. It is a pretty dangerous piece of work.”
“Take your own time. We shall not go off until next week. You won’t say anything to Bob or the old man about it?”
“Never a word,” I replied, hoping that he wouldn’t ask me to keep still where Tom and Elam were concerned. I couldn’t possibly get along without taking them into my confidence, for although it was new business to them, I felt the want of a little good advice.
“Because if you do—if I see you riding off alone with either one of those fellows I shall know what you are up to, and then good-by to all your chance of getting any money.”
“You need have no fear,” said I, getting upon my feet. “I shall not say a word to either one of them.”