Gradually Lige Benner’s mind was leading him to the truth. As his brother proceeded with his investigations, the trend of the hunchback’s suspicions was made so manifest that Lige could not escape understanding them.
In the living room Lige spoke two or three sentences in the easy, conversational tone used with Isaacs. Jerry rushed in on him suddenly, his eyes blazing.
“Gringo Pete is a spy!” he snarled, dancing around his brother in grotesque wrath and excitement; “he’s a spy, I tell you, Lige! He came here to find out something, and he crawled into the fireplace and overheard all that passed between us and Isaacs!”
Lige Benner’s wrath was rising in a way that matched Jerry’s.
“What’s Gringo Pete’s object?” he asked, trying to keep his head clear and get at all the angles of the situation.
“His object, Lige, was to find out what we’re going to do,” declared Jerry.
“Of course; but why?”
“Why? Oh, use your brains, Lige, if you’ve got any!”
“He hates Buffalo Bill as much as I do. Even if he did find out anything——”
“Idiot! Don’t be a fool! Lige, can’t you see that Gringo Pete’s yarn may have been faked up? Why, Lige, that tramp of the plains may have been sent here by the scout himself—sent here to keep track of what we’re doing! And look what he’s found out, Lige! He’s learned all about the game we’re planning to play on Dunbar, and Red Steve’s giving him the facts about that other scheme the White Caps are mixed up in! If Gringo Pete gets away from us, we lose out. Can’t you see that, Lige?”