Nate Dunbar pushed forward with his wife. His left arm encircled Hattie’s waist, and together they stood in front of their old enemy.
“Hattie and I want to be in on this,” said Nate. “I don’t say, mind you, that you saved me from those H-P men. They never would have got me, for I had Buffalo Bill and his pards on my side. But you did keep us from shooting into the party of lynchers, and that would have caused no end of trouble. Red Steve must have been the man who tackled Jake Phelps on the trail. As you say, Benner, we have common cause against him. Perry has met you halfway, and with him for an example, Hattie and I won’t hang back in doing the same thing.”
They shook hands, and Benner doffed his black sombrero and bowed to Mrs. Dunbar.
“Whoop-ya!” jubilated old Nomad. “Ring ther bells! Let the band toot! Allymand left an’ all sashay! Peace is shore beginnin’ ter ride circles eround the diffikilties on ther Brazos! Be happy, ever’body, kase ther merlennium hes come! Who’d ever a-thort et?”
“I have to say, Buffalo Bill,” went on Benner, as soon as the old trapper had eased himself of his glorying, “that my men will remain on guard around this cabin until this trouble about Jake Phelps has been straightened out. There’ll be no more lynching parties. Have your pards learned anything regarding Red Steve?”
“Wild Bill Hickok and the baron are on his trail,” said the scout. “They’ll be heard from before long.”
“Wild Bill Hickok is a man of parts,” said Benner, with a rueful laugh. “I know from personal experience with him what he can do. If any one can catch Red Steve, it’s Wild Bill Hickok. We’re to remain quietly until he reports?”
“Yes.”
“Then I and my men will stay out here.”
“You can come in the house with the rest of us, Benner,” said Perry.