Then once more words came which could be understood.
“The trapper, too; we’ll fix him. Needn’t think he can come into this camp and put the kibosh onto us; it can’t be done easy. We’ve got too many friends here, and our organization is too strong.”
For some time the voices went on, in a grumble that rose and fell. But, though snatches of the talk came into the cellar, the baron got little more that he could piece together into intelligible sentences.
At last the talk stopped altogether. But the men were not heard to walk away. Still, it was apparent that they had gone.
“Vot do you t’ink uff idt?” the baron breathed at last.
“It proves just what I said—that Gopher Gabe means to kill us. It proves, too, what I’ve thought, that he has a strong organization in this town. Cody will find that he is fighting all the thugs and bad men of Blossom Range, and there is a regiment of them; I think that in the end they will kill him, too.”
“Ton’dt you pelieve idt!” protested the baron. “Dare iss nodt eenypoty vot gan kill Cody.”
“He doesn’t bear a charmed life any more than other men; and a bullet in the dark, or a knife thrust, can put him out of the way as easy as it would any one else.”
“You ton’dt knowed Cody!”
“Yes, I know him. But his days are numbered.”