“Nothin’ wrong with the caballo,” said one of the cowboys.
“Take good care of him. I told you, Hawkins,” Wild Bill went on to the White Cap, “that Beeswax could lay down and roll over with me.”
“He done it, all right,” returned Hawkins, with a sputter of profanity. “But I reckon it was a put-up job, an’ that ye didn’t calculate ter have it that-a-way.” He turned to Lige Benner and Red Steve. “Say, you fellers goin’ ter let Wild Bill keep his hair arter the way he’s fooled us? Why, he knows enough ter make us all a mighty sick lot, I can tell ye.”
“I’ll take care of Wild Bill,” said Benner shortly. “Carry him up to the cabin.”
Wild Bill was lifted by four men and toted up the hill to the adobe house. He saw Jerry on a horse in front of the cabin as he was carried toward the door.
“You kept him from getting away, eh, Lige?” chirruped the hunchback. “That’s good, mighty good! Keep a tight hold on him, Lige. When I get back, some time to-night, I want to see that fellow here.”
“You’ll see him here, Jerry, and don’t you forget that,” answered Benner.
Jerry, with a look of malicious triumph at Wild Bill, whirled his horse and started toward the trail for Hackamore. The prisoner was carried on through the living room of the house and dropped on the bed in the rear chamber. Benner drove everybody out but Red Steve, then drew up a chair to the head of the bed and sat down.
“Why did you do this, Hickok?” he asked, with a black scowl.
“You know why I did it,” was the reply. “What’s the use of threshing that all over again?”