“So Bernritter fixed your guns. Now, Mr. McGowan, I’ve told you all I know. I have been Bernritter’s tool all through this business. He got me my job here, and he swore that if I didn’t help him in his thieving he’d have me discharged. On account of all that, sir, I’m hoping you’ll be easy with me.”
“Oh, yes, I’ll be easy with you!” growled McGowan. “You’ll not be hung, I reckon, but you will go over the road, all right.”
“You haven’t lost any gold——”
“It was not through you that I saved any of it.”
“I didn’t know but that you might, when everything was considered, let me go. I’ll get right out, and this part of the country will never see me again.”
“You’ll get right out just as soon as you’re able to move; and you’ll go with Rising, the sheriff. And you’ll leave this part of the country, all right, when you take that little trip to Yuma.”
“Hyar’s a pard o’ your’n, Buffler!” sung out Nomad, from the other room.
The scout stepped out of the bedroom and found Little Cayuse. The boy had erased the war-paint from his face, for he had reached the end of his war-trail.
“Cayuse all right, Pa-e-has-ka,” said the boy.
“I knew they would be when I told you to take care of them. Where did you put the animals?”