“I’ve heard of him, but never seen him,” he explained.
“Then you know he’s a troublesome citizen,” said Betts. “When I seen you comin’ along hyer I couldn’t make out who ye was; so I dodged behind that rock. Then I tuck the risk of showin’ myself, knowin’ that if you was friends, and recognized me, you would come on. Brother Bill is out hyar some’eres.”
“Waugh!” Nomad’s face was wrinkling with smiles of pleasant recollections. “I recomembers yer brother, all right. He’s ther female. Bill still w’arin’ skirts now?” he asked.
“Not this trip; ’tain’t necessary. But he’s got his ole umbreller with him. I prefers pistols and rifles m’self; but Bill he says give him ther ole umbreller. It’s a wonder the way ther thing will shoot, an’ ther way he kin shoot it.”
“You’ve seen those big tracks near here?” the scout queried, after explaining further about Benson. “We lost them.”
“Yes,” said Betts.
“We’re follerin’ purty near by guesswork now,” Nomad admitted. “Yit I cal’late we’re p’intin’ right.”
“Waal, I’m powerful glad t’see ye!” Betts asserted again. “Was your man goin’ in this same direction?”
“Vot a kvestion!” exclaimed the baron. “Uff nodt, vouldt Puffalo Pill pe going dhis vay?”