“You fellows force my hand,” answered De Bray. “Take your hands off me for a minute, Billings, so I can show you something.”
“An’ when I let go my hands,” jeered Billings, “ye’ll make er break.”
“Hold a gun on me, one of you,” suggested De Bray.
Hotchkiss drew a revolver. As he leveled it, Billings released De Bray. The latter, bending down, pulled up his trousers and drew something from the top of his shoe. The object proved to be a roll of bills. De Bray opened out the roll on his knee, and the eyes of those about him began to widen.
The bill on top of the pile was of the $1,000 variety. As De Bray thumbed over the rest of the bills, it was seen that they were all of the same denomination.
“Waal, I’ll be jiggered!” muttered Billings.
“Wouldn’t thet rattle yer spurs?” gasped Pete.
“Thar’s money enough ter start a Fust National Bank,” commented the astounded Hotchkiss.
“I was told in Montegordo,” explained De Bray, “that it was a little bit reckless for a man to carry twenty thousand dollars in cash over the trail between there and Sun Dance. But I’ve got to get to the camp and see Buffalo Bill, and, inasmuch as I’ve usually been able to take care of myself, I thought I’d risk it.
“I don’t think any of us expected to meet highwaymen. When Lonesome Pete mentioned the subject, though, I thought it a good chance to take time by the forelock, as the saying is, and make myself secure against a possible surprise. So I asked the lady”—here he turned with one of his rosy smiles toward the woman in the back seat—“to hide my hundred in her bonnet, along with her own.