“Not a particle, Red Steve,” laughed the scout. “You were trying to run away from here and strike a bee line for the Brazos. You were planning to tell the cattle barons that Buffalo Bill had shown up in this section and was going to help Nate Dunbar and Dick Perry regain their rancher’s rights.”
“How—how’d you know that?”
“I’m a good hand at guessing. I’ve no objection to your carrying that message, Red Steve, but I’ve a horse somewhere outside, and I didn’t want you to run off with him. As soon as Dunbar and I leave the dugout, you’ll be free to hike for the Brazos. Tell Benner and the rest of the cattle barons that Buffalo Bill, as usual, is taking the part of the under dog, that he’s going to extend a helping hand to Nate Dunbar and the Perrys, and that he and his pards will stay in this section long enough to make peace on the Brazos and to shake a foot at the wedding of Nate Dunbar and Miss Perry. All this you’re to tell Benner, Steve, and make it plain to him that it comes from me straight. I didn’t come loping in here to stir up trouble, but now that I’ve found it stirred up, I’m going to put a shoulder to the wheel and settle it.”
The scout turned to Dunbar.
“Have you any property in this hangout, Nate?” he asked.
“That gun you took away from Red Steve belongs to me, Buffalo Bill,” was the reply. “That’s about all I brought with me except my clothes.”
“What became of your horse?”
“That was left with Red Steve’s in a swale to the south of the hangout.”
“Then, amigo, here’s your gun, and we’ll be going.”
The scout motioned Dunbar toward the ladder. The cowboy started up.