“And the third one?”
“Is this hyar feller that they calls Toltec Tom. Ef he goes wi’ us he’ll do us; an’ that’s what he’s goin’ fer; no other reason.”
“You get worse and worse all the time, Nomad!”
“But even you don’t like him, Hickok!” the shrewd old fellow declared. “Thet’s ther truth, an’ yer knows it; you don’t like ther looks of him any more’n I do. Admit it.”
“I admit it.”
“Then, shell we let him go with us?”
“It’s not for us to say, Nomad; Cody is boss here, and we’re simply trailing along with him, to help him as much as we can.”
“Waugh! Waal, I’m shore goin’ ter speak ter Buffler. He don’t know what he’s bitin’ off when he pards in wi’ a wart hog like thet feller.”
Old Nick Nomad spoke his mind vigorously, elaborating to Buffalo Bill the objections he had stated to Hickok.
But the great scout was skeptical, even though, a thing he did not confess, he had still rankling recollection of that unpleasant incident of the Niobrara; he said that he had agreed to take Conover along, and that instead of being a handicap, he believed Conover would be able to aid them materially.