"I want my hundred. I got you hyar afore the outlaws an' I want it now so's I'll be sure to git it. You may not be alive to give it to me after they git hyar."
This none too cheerful suggestion did not make the offerer of the bonus any more eager to pay it, especially as the affair had not turned out in the manner he had outlined to his companions as they crossed the fields, and he tried to hedge.
But the guide was not to be denied.
"If you don't fork it over an' right off, I'll ride into the woods yellin' to Jesse James to look out," he threatened.
Confronted by such a contingency, Higgins had no recourse but to pay, which he did forthwith.
As minute after minute went by without either sight or sound of the desperadoes, the man-hunters in the underbrush began to grow restive and talked among themselves.
Freely was the opinion expressed by those of them who were old hunters that their quarry had either been scared off by the hails of the detectives or had never intended to hide in the lonely cabin.
Jones, however, insisted upon waiting, arguing that the bandits, believing themselves safe when they took to the forest, were only riding leisurely and would soon appear.
But when a half hour had passed without their showing up, even he was convinced that their plans had miscarried and ordered the posse to scour the woods.
And as they searched, the man who had won the hundred dollars was the only cheerful one among them though he wisely kept as far from the vicinity of the disgruntled Higgins as he could.