“I suppose you’ve had too many other things to think about, to keep remembering a thing like that, so long ago?”
“You’re right there, Conover. Shall I call them in now?”
Conover hesitated again.
“Yes,” he said, “might as well, I reckon; but I’m thinkin’ they won’t be overwell pleased to know I’m to be not only their pard, but their guide. I could see they didn’t like me.”
Wild Bill, Nomad, and Woods, the marshal, were asked by the scout to come into the office.
Then he laid out before them so much of the conversation had with Conover as was needed to let them know that Toltec Tom was to be a member of the party which was to hit the trail of the kidnaping Indians and follow it wherever it went.
Nick Nomad, squatting in his chair, still shot distrustful looks at Tom Conover.
“I don’t like his face,” he said to Wild Bill, after the interview had ended.
“Why not?” Hickok inquired.
“You see that red scar on his forrud, re’chin’ up inter his ha’r?”