“My notion, exactly. Jordan isn’t a man to shy at trifles. But how are we to know what’s taking place at Benner’s ranch?”
“I’ve got a way for discovering that, pard. Listen.”
With that, the Laramie man settled back and freed his mind of a daring expedient which had abruptly occurred to him.
“It might be safe enough for Buffalo Bill or one of his pards to call at Lige Benner’s ranch, but if one of us dropped in there, compadre, how much would he find out?”
“Not much, and that’s a fact,” said Buffalo Bill. “Benner is the kind of a snake-in-the-grass that strikes from cover, and he hunts his cover well. If you or I went to his place, Hickok, we might or might not come away with our scalps; but—and mark this—if anything happened to us, Lige Benner would fix things so he could prove an alibi.”
“Right-o. I wasn’t thinking along that line, however. If Benner is laying his wires, Buffalo Bill or his pards wouldn’t be able to discover anything; but if some one went there who wasn’t known to be one of Cody’s pards, there’d be a fine opportunity for getting a line on Benner.”
“Well, yes. I’m not catching your drift, though, Hickok.”
“Here’s the drift: Suppose I fix up in different clothes and ride to Benner’s? Maybe I’m a cowpuncher hunting a job, and maybe I’m a Jew peddler, or any other thing that seems most likely to fill the bill. Benner wouldn’t know me from Adam, and I’m willing to gamble my spurs that I’d uncover a pay streak of information.”
The scout shook his head dubiously.
“Benner and all his men know you, pard,” said he. “It’s a question whether you could hide your identity so they wouldn’t know you. If you blew in there in a disguise, and they discovered who you were, there’d be fireworks and fatalities. Is it worth the risk?”