“What was he arrested for?” demanded the scout.
“For stealing dimings off of a Jew peddler named Abe Isaacs.”
“A frame-up!” breathed the trapper; “a frame-up o’ Benner’s!”
“What proof is there that Dunbar stole the diamonds?” went on the scout.
“He was ketched by the sher’ff with the stones in his saddlebags.”
“I feel so madt aboudt dot I vish I couldt fight,” flared the baron. “Tunpar vouldn’t do sooch t’ings, und dot’s all aboudt it. Oof he vas ketched mit der tiamonts, den somepody pud dem in his sattlepags. You hear vat I say!”
“Tell us all you know about it, Sim,” said the scout.
Sim unbosomed himself, finally getting down to the point that it was the sky pilot who had sent him to the ranch this second time, just as he had done the first.
“He wants ye ter hotfoot it ter Hackamore, Buffler Bill,” finished Pierce, “kase if anythin’s done fer Nate ye’re the one thet’s got ter do it. The Hackamore sher’ff’ll pay some attention ter you, which he won’t ter the rest o’ us.”
“I’ll git the hosses, Buffler,” tuned up the trapper joyfully, “an’ we’ll hit the breeze to’rds Hackamore.”