At the end of my little speech the driver put out his, wiry hand.
“If I didn’t do my part to help you in this job I’d have-; to own up to having a spavined soul and a heart with, wind-puffs on it. Go out on the road a half-mile and I’ll overtake you with two hosses and a mud-cart.”
Before midnight our little expedition was well started across the prairie. The cart was light, the crisp air of the March night had stiffened the mud, and we naturally made-better time than with the heavy outfit on which we had ridden to Breed. But it was coming, dawn when we got to the rim-rock at the edge of Callas prairie.. Far below we could see the chimneys of Royal City, smoking signals of early breakfasts.
During the crawl across the adobe ruts, under the stars, I had canvassed with the driver the dangers that the presence of Pratt and his associate rogues in Royal City held for two gentlemen who desired to mind their own business and travel East by that; first train.
“Friends,” stated the driver, after he had meditated on the matter, “I’m going to drop you right here at the rim-rock. Just over there is the mouth of a path that leads down the side of the canon by a short cut—it’s all of two miles further by the stage-road where you came-up. The path doesn’t hit the stage-road anywhere. Now if those chaps are out and free they’ll be likely to ram across to Breed by this morning’s stage. They want to see you mighty quick and what the mayor said to Pratt won’t keep ’em away, I reckon! They must be reckless by now! If you walk down the path you’ll dodge ’em—for the stage is just about leaving. There’s an old feller named Mike at the foot of the path who’ll ferry you. You’ll have a full hour to make the train. Take your time down the path so that you’ll be sure to miss the stage. If your men are still in Royal City—well, if I was in your place I’d take that train, anyway, even if I had to leave orders behind for the funerals and the flowers.”
We climbed down and I started to shove my hand into my pocket. Mr. Flye threw his own hand to his hip.
“Hands up!” he called, sharply. “Don’t you pull that wallet! When a chap gets rich overnight like I’ve done he’s pretty touchy when a friend tries to put favor on a cash basis. I didn’t think you’d do it, Mr. Mann.”
Tears came into my eyes.
“Hands up? Yes, hands up to you, good friend, both hands up to you.” I grabbed the driver’s fists in mine. “But I don’t understand just why you have done for me all that you’ve done.”
“I reckon I smelled out by sort of instinct that you was giving up your time, doing good for somebody else,” he said, with a nod at the old man. “At any rate, I took to you, and when I take to a man it’s all of a sudden and, doggone it, I just can’t help giving him my shirt—if it’s clean enough and he’ll take it.”