“I am sure that he will do all in his power, Mr. Baldy, to make my ride as pleasant a one as it has been with you.”
And Horseshoe Ned did, for he showed how he could drive, gathered wild flowers here and there for his fair passenger, told her the legends of the trails, and showed her the scenes of Silk Lasso Sam’s red exploits, and graves which he had been the one to dot the roadside with.
“I tell yer, miss, thet Silk Lasso Sam is a terror, and I has seen him do killin’ more times than I cares to remember. It hain’t been so very long since he kilt my Pard Ribbons, and he has nipped me slight several times; but that is his business and drivin’ is mine, and it’s every man to his occupation, and I must say Silk Lasso Sam stood above ’em all in what he undertook.”
“And he is now a prisoner at the fort, sir?”
“Yes, miss. He’s soon ter be hanged, they says, though I won’t believe it until I sees it.”
“Why, do you think he’ll receive a pardon?”
“A pardon, miss? Silk Lasso Sam receive a pardon? No, indeed, miss, never from God or man!” was the vehement response.
“He has been so very wicked, then?”
“He has had nothing but wickedness in his heart, miss. Nobody has been able to escape him, men, women or children, for he is merciless to all, and but for Buffalo Bill, Surgeon Powell and a miner named Deadshot Dean, he’d hev gone on his wicked ways and done no end of harm.”
“I am sorry to hear that he was a man of whom nothing good could be said, for it is seldom you find a man who has fallen so low as that,” sadly said the passenger.