This was too much for Tom, who settled back in his chair and looked at Elam. Our backwoods friend arose to the emergency, and I considered his advice as good as any that could be given.
“You can’t do nothing about it,” he said, after rubbing his chin thoughtfully for a few minutes. “Let him go his way, an’ you go yours.”
“Yes; and then see what will happen to me if I don’t do as he says. Suppose he thinks I have had time to steal that pocket-book? If I don’t give it over to him, then what?”
“Tell him that Mr. Davenport keeps a guard over it all the while,” said Elam, “an’ that you can get no chance. Heavings an’ ’arth! I only wish I was in your boots.”
“I wish to goodness you were,” said I. “What would you do?”
“I’d let him go his way, an’ I’d go mine. That’s all I should do.”
“I guess that’s the best I could do under the circumstances,” said I, after thinking the matter over. “By the way, I think it is about time you two went out on your ride. I am of the opinion that it will be safer so. Leave me here alone, so that when Johnson comes up—— I do not believe his name is Johnson; do you?”
“’Tain’t nary one of his names, that name aint,” said Elam emphatically. “His name is Coyote Bill.”
“How do you know?” Tom and I managed to ask in concert.
“I aint never seen the man; I aint done nothing but hear about him since I have been here, but I know he is Coyote Bill,” replied Elam doggedly. “At any rate that’s the way I should act if I was him.”