“Wait till I tell ye the whole of it. Lawless said I was to ask for you, and that I was ter tell ye Lawless believed ye was that rare thing, a square gambler. This message fer Buffalo Bill——”
“Ah!” murmured Dell, her interest growing. “Then the message is for the king of scouts?”
“That’s the way I sense it,” answered Blake. “It’s fer the king of scouts, but it’s ter be given ter Gentleman Jim.”
“Talk about yer puzzles!” cut in Lonesome Pete. “This takes the banner an’ leads the percession, I reckon. Lawless sends a message ter one man an’ tells ye ter give it ter another.”
“How do you explain that, Blake?” asked Gentleman Jim.
“I don’t explain it,” continued Blake, “an’ I’ve told ye all I know.”
He dipped into the breast of his shirt and removed a long envelope, soiled by much handling.
“There it is,” said he, handing the envelope to Gentleman Jim. “If I’d petered out before the steer got here, ye might have found that on me, an’ ye might not. It was Lawless’ roundabout way o’ doin’ the thing.”
“He and his gang,” remarked Gentleman Jim, “must have chased the steer toward Sun Dance, and have drawn off only when sure the brute would come peltering down into the camp.”
“That must be the way of it, although I lost my senses some time ago. I’m purty husky, but what I went through on that steer’s back is somethin’ I never want ter go through ag’in.”