The former S Bar men jumped nervously. The man at The Kid's left gulped.
"Well," he blurted, "we was only gettin' forty-five, and when Stover offered to double it, and with nothin' to do but lie around, why, we——"
"Things are changed now," said The Kid gently. "Ma Thomas is alone now."
"That's right," said the oldest awkwardly. "I suppose we ought to——"
"Ought to!" repeated one of the others, jumping to his feet. "By
George, we will! I ain't the kind to go back on a woman like Mrs.
Thomas. I don't care what yuh others do!"
"That's what I say," chorused his two companions in the same breath.
"I'll show yo' I aim to play fair," Kid Wolf approved. He took a handful of gold pieces from his pocket and placed them on the table in a little pile. "This is all I have, but Mrs. Thomas isn't in a position to pay right now, so heah is yo' first month's wages in advance."
The three looked at him and gulped. If ever three men were ashamed, they appeared to be. The old cow-puncher pushed the pile back to The Kid.
"We ain't takin' it," he mumbled. "Don't get us wrong, partner. We ain't thet kind. We never would've quit the S Bar if it hadn't been for Steve Stacy—the foreman. And, of course, things was goin' all right at the ranch then. Guess it's all our fault, and we're willin' to right it. We don't know yuh, but yo're O.K., son."
They shook hands warmly. The Kid learned that the oldest of the three was Anton. Wise was the bow-legged one, and Lathum was freckled and tall.