“He ort ter be handled with the buckskin end of er quirt,” growled the trapper.
“That’s right, Nick. But now that Benner has been properly disciplined, I’m in hopes that Bloom will see things differently. We can’t leave this part of Texas until we patch up a peace between Bloom and the ranchers at the Star-A. There must be peace all up and down the Brazos when we leave the river.”
“I’m more of er hand fer distarbin’ ther peace, Buffler, than fer makin’ et. Thar’s er heap more excitement in diggin’ up the hatchet than in buryin’ et.”
“Bosh!” laughed the scout. “Nick, you and I never went into a job yet without having for our end and aim the establishment of peace and security. Drastic measures are sometimes necessary in order to smooth the kinks out of law and order.”
“H’m,” muttered Nomad. “I reckon I think too much o’ ther fightin’ end. In smoothin’ out kinks, I’d ruther land on ’em with both feet, with a gun in each fist. Rubbin’ the tangles out with love pats an’ coo-coo words is some more’n I kin do. Thar’s erbout as much sentiment in me as thar is in er horn toad. Anyways, this hyar di-plom-a-cy—is thet what ye call et?—ain’t wuth er whoop ef it ain’t backed by narve. By ther same token, what good’s narve ef ye ain’t got a leetle hardware tucked away up yore sleeve?”
The scout laughed again.
“I reckon we’ll have excitement enough to please you before we’re done with the Brazos,” said he, “but it’s only going to be incidental to the main question of peace.”
The trapper chuckled, fancying he was catching Buffalo Bill’s drift.
“We’ll make peace, Buffler,” he declared, “ef we hev ter shoot holes in every bloomin’ statute of ther State o’ Texas!”
“Not so bad as that. We’re backing up the law, Nick. Bloom hasn’t been looking after the law as he was sworn to do.”