“I’ll not stand for it, Jerry!” he cried. “Working that trick with Dunbar is clever, and all right; but this other thing I won’t stand for. It would never succeed.”
Jerry ruffled up his humped back and spit at Lige like an angry cat.
“I’ve started out to do the job, Lige,” he screeched, “and I’ll do it!”
“You’ll not stake Cody out and run a herd of stampeded steers over him,” declared Lige Benner, tossing his hands, “and that’s flat. I’ll get my revenge on Cody some other way.”
Jerry’s anger died down suddenly, but a treacherous sparkle smoldered in his eyes.
“All right, Lige, all right,” said he. “I’ve got to ride to Hackamore to carry out my part of the scheme against Dunbar.”
“Your part? What’s your part?”
The jibbering laugh came from the wizened, expressionless face of the hunchback.
“How are those paste diamonds to be found in Dunbar’s saddlebags, Lige,” he asked, “if I don’t put ’em there? That’s my work. I didn’t want to ride into Hackamore with Abraham Isaacs because people might think of it later, and suspect something. But I can go into town now, and——”
The words died on the hunchback’s lips. He was looking at the seemingly blank wall—staring hard.