“W-h-e-w!” whistled Mr. Chisholm.
“Yes. And then he would have the law to back him up. He would go to the surrogate and challenge the will. Now, it seems to me that he could make us a heap of trouble by doing that.”
Mr. Chisholm knocked the ashes from his pipe and filled up for another smoke, all the while keeping his eyes fastened upon me. I knew he was thinking deeply about something, and made no attempt to interrupt him.
“Well?” said he, when he had come to some conclusion.
“And there’s another thing I wanted to speak to you about,” I continued. “I can’t help it because Coyote Bill should be so friendly with me, can I?”
“Why—no; if you haven’t done anything to make him so.”
“Well, you know what Mr. Davenport told you, don’t you? He thinks because I lost my cattle I am down on everybody who has not lost theirs. Now, he was one of the party who came up there to search the house.”
“That doesn’t matter. You couldn’t have kept him away from there if he was a mind to come, and I confess I thought something was up when Henderson came up missing the next morning.”
“But I don’t want to get these men down on me because he acts so. He asked me if I was going with him and help him steal cattle, and I told him I was not. He tried his best to get me interested in the matter before he made any move, but I wouldn’t do it, and it was only by taking Elam into my confidence that I was able to upset him.”
“Well, you just let Coyote Bill go and trust to me,” said Mr. Chisholm, giving me his hand to shake. “If anybody says anything to you about it send them to me. But I don’t know what to make of Henderson’s going to Austin. If he should get the cattle thrown into the hands of a trustee, and have some sort of an arrangement made by which he could keep the bonds out of our grasp—— Who-pee! By George! We would be in a fix then.”