Old Nick Nomad, squatting silent in his chair, shot Conover a distrustful glance.
“Certainly,” Buffalo Bill answered, rising. “We can go into that cell you occupied, or——”
“Oh, we’ll clear out—go outside,” said Wild Bill, also rising.
But though he made the offer so quickly, he, too, seemed not at all pleased.
The office was cleared, and Buffalo Bill remained alone with the prisoner.
“Maybe I’m pertickler, and I know them fellers didn’t like it,” said Conover. “But what I’m goin’ to say concerns that time I deserted you—flunked like a coward, over on the Niobrara.”
“I haven’t forgotten it,” the scout admitted quickly.
Conover glanced away at the window, as if he desired to avoid the scout’s direct gaze.
“Up to that time,” Buffalo Bill added slowly, “we had been good pards.”
“And never was afterward,” Conover added.