“Thet’s what I’m hopin’,” remarked Hotchkiss.
“You say this Gentleman Jim is a square gambler, and a friend of the scout’s?”
“Yes. He got mixed up with ther scout in the matter o’ the Forty Thieves Mine, an’ it was Lawless as done the mixin’. At fust, it seems, Lawless trusted Gentleman Jim; an’ then, bekase Gentleman Jim did ther squar’ thing, Lawless got a grudge at him. Runnin’ off ther woman has somethin’ ter do with thet grudge, an’ I’ll bet money on it.”
“We’ll know more,” spoke up De Bray, through his clenched teeth, “before we’re many hours older.”
And in this De Bray was right.
CHAPTER XXI.
BUFFALO BILL AND GENTLEMAN JIM.
Unaware of the exciting events transpiring on the Montegordo trail, the little adobe camp of Sun Dance lay sweltering in peaceful quiet on its “flat” half-way up the wall of Sun Dance Cañon.
In front of the Lucky Strike Hotel Spangler was dozing in the shade, wondering, whenever he opened his drowsy eyes and had a lucid thought, why in Sam Hill the stage did not show up.
Old Nomad and Wild Bill were playing a game of seven-up in the room of the Lucky Strike, which was called, by virtue of its function, the “office.”
Dell Dauntless was in a room off the office, reading a book to Wah-coo-tah, who was sitting up in a chair, blanketed and pillowed.