“What does the doctor think?”
“He dunno what ter think. Mebby Jake’ll pull through, an’ mebby he won’t. An’ nobody knows what ter think about the way he was hurt. ’Pears like some’un come up behind him an’ hit him over the head with the handle of a quirt. An’ yit thar’s things about it which don’t make it look like that, neither.”
“Can’t Jake talk?”
“Nary, he kain’t. He jest lays quiet an’ limp, with his eyes closed—more’n two-thirds acrost the divide, if I’ve got any savvy about sich things. But all this ain’t what I want ter tell ye.”
“Then get down to cases, Sim,” urged the scout, “if it’s important.”
“Waal, it sure is important. When Bloom, an’ the doctor, an’ Quiller, an’ me got ter whar Jeems had Jake stretched out on the grass, thar was five other cowboys from the H-P ranch thar. Bloom’s a pill. He’s talkin’ all the time as how it must ’a’ been Nate Dunbar who done the bizness fer Jake. Them cowboys ketches fire right off. ‘If Dunbar’s at the Star-A,’ they says, ‘we’ll git him; an’ he won’t last long when we do git him.’ With that the five of ’em wheels around an’ starts fer the H-P ranch, ter pick up another bunch o’ punchers, I opine, an’ ride fer the Star-A ter git Nate. Bloom, although he’s sher’ff an’ ort ter stand up fer the law, never says ay, yes, er no ter ’em, but lets ’em go on. That’s what was kerryin’ me back ter town ter see you, Buffler Bill. Thar’ll be a swarm o’ H-P cowboys comin’ down on the Star-A folks bymby, an’ somebody like you ort ter be out thar.”
Sim Pierce’s news was intensely disquieting.
“Since Bloom won’t do his duty,” said the scout, “it’s up to us to take care of Nate. We’ll change our minds about riding for the H-P ranch, Nick,” he added, “and strike a bee line for the Star-A.”
“I’ll go with ye,” declared Sim Pierce. “Mebby ye’re goin’ ter need me.”
“We may need all the men we can muster,” answered the scout. “This affair has taken an angle that may result in a world of trouble for our friends at the Star-A.”