“Why, I knew him the minute I put my eyes on him,” said Bob, looking up. “He was always the very picture of my father, and if father had wanted his property to go to him he would have said so. He would have told you so, Mr. Chisholm, while you were sitting on the porch listening to his story. He would have told these boys so while he was telling them the history of the pocket-book.”
“Well, take it easy. Things will come out all right in the end.”
There was silence around that camp fire while we were eating supper, until Frank, the cowboy, came in and sauntered up for his share of it. He was evidently big with news, for when he had helped himself to a plateful and began looking around for a place to sit down, he said:
“Henderson’s got something that didn’t belong to him. He’s been searching that body. He has got a hundred dollars in cash.”
“What did he say?” exclaimed Mr. Chisholm.
“I say, he’s got a hundred dollars in cash that he is going to put in his pocket and keep there. He says he found it in the wagon, and don’t mean to let anybody take it away from him.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Mr. Chisholm. “The money has got to go where the pocket-book goes.”
After that there was more silence until we had all finished our suppers, and got our pipes out, and then the men began to stroll in one after the other. I noticed, too, that almost all the cowboys, some of the farmers, and a good many of the Rangers appeared to side with Mr. Chisholm, for they took particular pains to place themselves pretty close to him. Henderson was one of the first to appear, and when he seated himself on a log opposite our leader, he must have been surprised at the meagre showing he had.
“Well, boys,” said Mr. Chisholm, knocking the ashes from his pipe, “we are all here, are we? If you know of anybody that’s back send ’em on, for we want this thing done up in order. I’ll appoint you all as jurymen, and we’ll show some people out there in the settlements that we can do some things as well as they can. The first thing that is done when a man dies is to read his will; but first I must have every article that belongs to him. You know it all goes where the will goes, don’t you?”
Of course that was settled. All the boys standing around agreed to that. But Mr. Chisholm wasn’t satisfied. He put it to a vote, and such a sonorous “Aye!” as resounded through that grove of willows was never heard there before.