“Whom do you mean?” I enquired, being determined, if I could, to answer no questions except those he had on his mind. How did I know whom he referred to when he spoke of “they,” and wanted to know where they were?
“I mean the old man and Bob, and all the rest of them,” he added. “I thought they were here with you.”
“Tom and Elam have gone off riding,—there they go,—and Mr. Davenport and Bob have gone into the ranch to have a nap. I can’t steal the pocket-book now, even if I wanted to, for Bob is keeping guard over it. It is true he don’t know what there is in it, but he is keeping watch of his father all the same.”
“Look here, Carlos,” said Bill, coming up close to the porch, “do you ever have charge of the old man in that way?”
“In what way?”
“Well, I haven’t been able to do any business in almost a year, and I am getting heartily tired of it.”
“What business do you mean?”
“Aw! Go on, now. You know what I mean. I can’t steal cattle that are half starved, for I wouldn’t make anything out of them if I did. I am getting impatient, and my boss is getting impatient, too.”
“Well?” said I, when he paused.
“I want you to see if you can’t secure possession of that pocket-book by to-morrow night,” said Bill, in a quiet way that had a volume of meaning in it. “You see, it isn’t the will that Henderson cares for. The cattle are pretty well gone up, and there won’t be a third of them left when we get to Trinity. What he cares most about is the bonds. If he can get them in his hands he will be all right.”