CHAPTER IV.
AT THE “EL RIO.”
When the trapper and the little Piute left the sheriff’s office they were expecting immediate saddle-work; but in this Nomad, at least, was disappointed.
Halting among the oleanders that bordered the gravel-walk leading from the court-house steps to the street, the trapper and the redskin saw their men in animated conversation on the corner by the hotel.
“They don’t appear ter like ther way things aire goin’, Cayuse,” said the trapper.
“Ugh!” said Cayuse, who thought much and said little.
“Anyways, they appears ter hev made up their minds ter somethin’,” went on the trapper, a moment later. “Jacobs is goin’ off down ther street, an Bernritter is goin’ inter ther hotel. Bernritter fer you, son, an’ I’ll shadder Jacobs.”
“Wuh!”
On reaching the edge of the square, Cayuse crossed in the direction of the hotel, while Nomad turned to the right and sauntered along on the side of the street opposite the one where Jacobs was walking.
Jacobs walked two blocks and turned in at a gambling and drinking-resort which a gold sign proclaimed to be the “El Rio.”