“Not is it worth the risk, pard, but is there a chance that the risk would work out? Personally, I wouldn’t be averse to a little excitement, but——”
“That’s the way you always stack up, Hickok, and that’s the point that would work most against you.”
“But,” went on Hickok, “I understand my responsibilities, and that, if I don’t get away without arousing suspicion, what information I pick up won’t do Perry or the Dunbars any good. Which and wherefore is the reason I’ll play my cards with care and caution. Besides, you know how well I can make up. If I wasn’t a pard of Cody’s, and mired in the West, I reckon I’d be on the stage. Am I, or am I not, an actor?”
“You are,” laughed the scout; “one of the best actors I’ve seen in many a day. I remember how you played the part of a vaquero, over in Arizona, and fooled the rest of your pards.”
“Ah! Well, if I could fool my pards, why can’t I fool Benner and his outfit? I can, and I will. Just give me leave to try, that’s all.”
The scout reflected. When Wild Bill left only the scout would be with Perry and Mrs. Dunbar. If Benner and his men tried to make a raid on the Star-A, there would be merry doings to follow and perhaps some losses of Star-A property. But a raid was too open a warfare for Benner, the scout knew. The unscrupulous cattleman liked best a covert and more reprehensible hostility—something like a bullet from ambush, or a knife in the back. But, after the lesson Benner had received at the hands of the scout and his pards, it was doubtful whether he would even dare to launch lead from cover. If he was planning reprisal against Perry and Dunbar, Benner would proceed by more devious ways to effect his purposes. It was necessary that his plans should be known so that they might be guarded against.
“While we’re hemming and hawing and sidestepping, pard,” spoke up Wild Bill, “the plot is thickening over at Benner’s. And Benner’s, you know, is a good two hours’ ride down the Brazos. Come to centre quick, so I can mosey along—if I’m going.”
“We’re not at all sure there’s any plotting going on at Benner’s,” said the scout.
“So far as that goes, we’re not sure of much of anything in this world but death and taxes. Anyhow, Pard Cody, about two minutes ago you rose to remark that Jordan wasn’t a man to send a messenger with a warning unless there was really something on the carpet.”
“Nor do I think he is,” answered the scout. “Jordan, for a sky pilot, is about as clear-headed, practical a man as I ever met. But suppose it was part of Benner’s game to steer this man of his against the sky pilot with a fake report of trouble brewing? What if that’s a part of Benner’s plan?”