Wild Bill could hear some one moving about the room. After that there was a jingling of gold.
“How I like der fine yellow goldt!” came the greedy, gloating voice of Isaacs. “See how dot shines! Vat a rich mans you was, Misder Benner!”
“Never mind that,” said Benner dryly. “Count the stuff and then hike for Hackamore. See that this game is played right, Isaacs, or you’ll never sell any more stuff on the Brazos.”
“I do der best vat I can, chentlemen; und I am to get der resdt of der gold ven I get droo?”
“You are,” said Benner. “In the meantime, you have the plunder and part of the purchase price. That gives you the long end of the deal.”
There was a little more talk, and then Abraham Isaacs, having identified himself with as villainous a scheme as was ever hatched, took his leave.
Wild Bill, frowning blackly, got out of the fireplace and into the room. Stepping to the window he looked cautiously out.
Red Steve was still leaning against the wall of the building, and apparently had not moved since Wild Bill had looked at him last. The Laramie man went over and seated himself in a chair.
“The fiends!” he muttered, anger mounting high in his breast. “So that’s to be Lige Benner’s vengeance on Nate Dunbar, is it? He’ll take away the lad’s good name, get him sent to prison, and cover Mrs. Dunbar and Dick Perry with disgrace! They’d never stay in the cattle country after such a game as that! Lucky I came here! By gorry, this might have been pushed through to a success if I hadn’t got next to it. I reckon I’ve learned enough. My next move is to get away and let Pard Cody know how I’ve developed this pay streak. A quick move will save Perry and Dunbar. A——”
The bolt on the other side of the door was shoved back and the door pushed open.