"And yo're backin' thet statement up—how?" demanded the oldest cow hand, suddenly ceasing to toy with the card deck.
"With these," returned Kid Wolf mildly.
The trio stared. The Kid had drawn his twin .45s and laid them on the table so quickly and so quietly that none of them had seen his arms move.
"Now, I hope," murmured The Kid, "that yo' rather listen to me talk than to those. I've only a few words to say. Boys, I was surprised. I didn't think yo' would be the kind to leave a po' woman like Mrs. Thomas in the lurch. Men who would do that, would do anything—would even run cattle into Mexico," he added significantly.
All three men flushed to the roots of their hair.
"Don't think we had anything to do with thet!" exclaimed one.
"We got a right to quit if we want to," put in the oldest with a defiant look.
"Boys, play square with me and yo' won't be sorry," Kid Wolf told them earnestly. "I know that all these things happened after yo' left. Since then, cattle have been rustled and Mr. Thomas has been murdahed—yo' know that as well as I do. That woman might be yo' mothah. She needs yo'. What's yo' verdict?"
There was a long silence. The three riders looked like small boys whose hands had been caught in the cooky jar.
"How much did Majah Stovah pay yo' to quit?" added the Texan suddenly.