“Benner’s man didn’t say—mebby he didn’t know—but he allowed it was ter be pulled off some suddent. Jordan thought you fellers might git a line on purceedin’s an’ use yore original, Cody brand o’ kybosh.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all. I’ll now go over ter the c’ral, put out my hoss an’ hang eround till arter dinner; then I’ll p’int fer Hackamore. Whar’s Nate?”
“Gone to town. You’d have passed him if you’d come the regular trail.”
“Shucks! Say, I was in sich a big hurry that I kim ’cross lots. Waal, hyer’s fer ther c’ral.”
Sim Pierce stepped toward his horse and laid hold of the bridle reins.
“Mind, Sim,” warned the scout as the man moved off, “not a word about this to Mrs. Dunbar or Perry. There may be nothing to it, and there’s no need of arousing the fears of those in the house.”
“Shore not,” flung back Pierce over his shoulder as he moved away with his horse. “I’ll keep mum, all right.”
“What do you think about this, Hickok?” queried the scout thoughtfully, when he and the Laramie man were again alone.
“I don’t think that sky pilot would have sent Sim with a warning unless there was good ground for worry.”