“I’ve got nigh a thousand in money here with me, and Jerry have got about half as much, so you kin hev all if yer’ll let us go.”
“Yes, all of fifteen hundred dollars.”
“Well, it is more money than I make in a year with chief of scouts’ pay, but if it was ten times as much, you could not bribe me to do a mean act. I know you are two scamps, and as I caught you house-breaking, I’ll so report your acts. Come, you go with me. Stand close up behind this man, sir.”
“Tom, we is goners.”
“Dead sart’in, Jerry.”
Having placed the men at close step, Buffalo Bill buckled their belts together, and fastened them about their waists.
“I’ll carry ther weapons, Buffalo Bill.”
“No, thank you, Jerry, I can do so,” was the smiling reply.
Shouldering the ax and iron bar the two men had brought with them, and sticking their weapons in his belt, until he looked like a walking arsenal, Buffalo Bill made his prisoners march down the hill before him.
There he found his horse, and, mounting, ordered the men to face toward Pocket City and march. They did so with low curses and whines.