McGowan debated the matter with himself for a moment. Then, finally, “Take off the darbies,” he said to Rising.
The manacles were removed, and Rising shook hands with the baron.
“I haf peen imbosed ubon,” said the baron, “und I feel schust like some hornets mit a shtinger oudt. Puffalo Pill iss my pard, und der pest feller vat efer vore shoe-ledder; he shtands py me, you bed you, aber I feel so madt I vant to fighdt.”
“Get over it,” said McGowan crustily. “You’re free. What more do you want?”
“I vant dot imbression dot I’m guildy all der same remofed from your mindt,” scowled the baron. “Dot’s vot I vant!”
“Then find the man that put that gold-brick in your saddle-bag.”
“We’ll do it, McGowan,” spoke up the scout. “Give us a little time.”
“Will you go out to supper with me, Buffalo Bill?” queried the mine-owner.
“I have other business on hand, just now, McGowan.”