The cowboys appeared undecided. At this moment two other actors appeared on the scene. They came from somewhere within the house and stepped hastily through the door.
One of them was Bloom, the sheriff. The other was the doctor.
“Ah!” came from Bloom. “So the chivalrous Mr. Cody has paid us a visit, has he? In his usual manner he has begun to make things lively. Go ’way, you men,” and Bloom turned and waved the cowboys off. “I reckon Phelps and I can look after this Cody person.”
The cowboys retreated to a distance. The scout released Phelps, but kept his revolver.
“Tut, tut!” cried the doctor. “This here ain’t accordin’ to Hoyle. We’re gents all, so why the nation should we act like a pack of rowdies? Hank Phelps, you ca’m down. I got the highest respect for Buffalo Bill, an’ I know he ain’t here for no wrong purpose. Bloom, don’t be unmannerly. Confound it, can’t you two give Buffalo Bill a chance to tell what he’s come here for?”
Here was an unexpected aide in the person of the doctor. The scout felt that he was indeed fortunate to find the doctor at the house.
“I’m not lookin’ at Buffalo Bill with the same eye as you, doc,” grunted Bloom. “Him an’ me don’t hitch.”
“That is regrettable,” said the doctor. “When people can’t hitch, Bloom, it’s best to let each other alone.”
“Why don’t Cody let me alone?” babbled Phelps. “What does he come crowhopping around here for?”
“That’s his nature,” sneered Bloom. “He makes it a point to blow in where he ain’t wanted.”