“Lost your nerve, have you?” he rasped.
Benner lifted his eyes to Bloom’s.
“You’ll find,” said he, “that I have plenty of nerve to avenge any insult you heave at me. Walk softly, Bloom, when you’re going over my feet. That’s my advice to you. So far as Dunbar and Perry are concerned. I’ve buried the hatchet; but, so far as you are concerned, I’ll dig it up if you give me half a chance. Spread your blankets and go to sleep on that.”
Benner’s spirit was not broken. There was plenty of snap and ginger in his words. It was clear to the scout that the cattle baron was swerved by only one motive, and that was to have Red Steve captured, so that the owner of the Circle-B ranch would be cleared of the taking off of Ace Hawkins.
The capture of Red Steve, therefore, had become a factor in the business Buffalo Bill was so anxious to accomplish—the peace of the Brazos country.
“I’m mighty glad,” scowled Bloom, in no wise relishing the manner of the cattle baron, “that Hank Phelps is still got the nerve to hold his grudge against Perry and Dunbar.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” said Benner. “Phelps is a friend of mine, and I’m going to see him to-morrow. I think he’ll promise to coöperate with me in establishing peace on the Brazos. He’s about as tired of these foolish squabbles as I am.”
He got up and moved toward the door.
“We’re on good terms now, Buffalo Bill?” he asked, halting at the threshold.
“Yes,” answered the scout.