“Have it your way, Jerry,” answered Lige.
“I’d like ter fix it so’st I kin have a leetle time o’ my own, now and then,” put in Gringo. “’Casionally I’d like ter take a pasear up the Brazos, keepin’ track o’ Buffler Bill.”
“You’ll have plenty of time for that, Gringo,” said Jerry, with another of his weird laughs. “I’ll——”
A man appeared in the door—a red-haired, evil-looking Texan.
“I’m back,” the newcomer bawled, “an’ I’ve got Abraham Isaacs along.”
“Dry up, Steve!” called Lige angrily. “Can’t you see we’re not alone here?”
Lige turned to Jerry. The hunchback was already on his feet and opening a door leading into a rear room.
“In here with you, Gringo,” said Jerry. “When I’m ready to talk with you again I’ll let you know.”
“What am I ter do in thar?” queried Gringo Pete, moving toward the open door.
“You’re to stay in that room till you’re called, Gringo,” replied the hunchback.