“But the mail goes through on the same stage, you know,” Juniper Joe explained. “I jedge it’s the mail that you’re most int’rested in?”
“Aber you tond’t know vhere diss roadt achent iss vot you shodt at,” said the baron, “I exbose dot you vill pe looking for him yourselluf?”
“Waal, I’ll kinder keep my eyes peeled, as I ambles round the town,” Juniper Joe admitted. “Ye see, I think he’ll lay low, now that he knows he has been spotted. But it’s him being hyer which makes me figger that the bullion stage to-morrow is goin’ to have er heap of fun gittin’ through?”
“You think,” said the scout, “that he will hold it up, at the place you mentioned?”
“I figger that he has got friends hyer, and they’ll help him do it. I’m goin’ to say to the Wells Fargo folks what I’ve said to you. And I’m goin’ to make ’em a suggestion, which I now make to you. Why wouldn’t it be a good idea to send the old stage out empty, but with gyards in it? Make a bluff, ye see, which will cause Tim Benson an’ his gang to think the bullion, nuggets, an’ dust aire goin’ that way. Then put the stuff over the mountains in some other manner, which the agents wouldn’t git onto.”
“It might do,” the scout admitted.
“Uff he tond’t gatch onto it.”
“It can be kept quiet,” said Juniper Joe. “I jest wanted to say these things, and have ye think ’em over to-night. Now I got to git back to my new wife; er she’ll be thinking that mayby I’ve run up ag’inst the pistol of Benson. She didn’t want me to come down hyer to-night, on that account. Women aire gin’rally skeery critters, ye know.”
He pulled himself out of his chair; then went out and downstairs, walking slowly, as if he were thinking over the situation.
“Er, waugh!” Nomad whooped again, when he was gone. “What does yer make o’ thet?”