“Ace Hawkins said so.”
“That’s what you say,” sneered the sheriff.
“There are others who heard Hawkins make his statement, and they will bear me out. Wild Bill Hickok, for one——”
“He’s your pard. I wouldn’t believe him any quicker’n I’d believe you.”
Old Nomad’s gorge was rising. The sheriff was a coyote, and Buffalo Bill was putting up with too much from him. He made an attempt to slip in a few words, but the scout looked toward him and waved him to silence.
“There’s the sky pilot, Jordan,” went on the scout. “He’ll back up my statement. I reckon there’s not a man on the Brazos who would refuse to believe the sky pilot.”
This statement rather floored the sheriff.
“When the sky pilot talks to me,” said he, “then I’ll know what to think, but——”
Just here the door opened at old Nomad’s back. He turned quickly to deny the newcomer entrance, but recoiled when he saw who was coming into the office.
“Benner!” exclaimed old Nomad, wondering what this new move was to signify.