Wild Bill and Nomad were taking a big liking to Jordan. He was vastly different from most circuit-riding ministers they had met.
“Where’s Sim Pierce?” queried Wild Bill, looking around for that worthy.
Sim Pierce had mysteriously vanished.
“Oh,” smiled Jordan, “Sim lit out. He’s careful of his health, you know, and he didn’t want Benner and Phelps to catch him fraternizing with you. These cattle barons seem to be a law unto themselves on the Brazos, and most of the people in these parts try to keep on the good side of them. But never mind Sim. Tell me about the Perrys.”
Feeling that here was a man to be trusted to the limit, Wild Bill told him about the paper that had dropped from Benner’s watch. A thoughtful frown crept over the sky pilot’s face as the Laramie man repeated the contents of the paper.
“The barons have been getting more and more reckless in their dealings with Perry,” said Jordan; “they have gone from one lawless act to another until now they have captured him and taken him away. Phelps admitted that he had sent that note to Benner; and that means, my friends, that Perry is being held a prisoner at Phelps’ ranch.”
“Whoop-ya!” murmured the trapper. “S’posin’ we ride out ter Phelps’ place an’ lift Perry’s blockade? What d’ye say? Et’s er noble deed, an’ mebbyso et’ll lead ter a ruction.”
“Will you be guided by me, my friends?” asked the sky pilot earnestly. “I am familiar with the situation along this part of the Brazos, and I know pretty nearly everybody in this part of the country. Perhaps, equipped as I am, I can judge better than you what is best to be done.”
“Throw et up ter us, elder. Any palaver ye kin hand out will receive full attention.”
“Thank you. Don’t try to go to Phelps’ ranch this side of dewfall. Wait till night comes. From now on, Benner and Phelps will have both of you men watched. The barons know you got that note, and they can guess that you read it and then tore it up. If you try to go to Phelps’ before night, there’ll be trouble, and you’ll get the worst of it.”