A horse was standing outside, and a man held the bridle reins looped upon his arm.
"That you, Baptiste?"
"Yup."
"Good, you are punctual."
"It's as well."
"Yes."
"I go to join the boys," the half-breed said slowly. "And you?"
"I—oh, I go to settle a last account with Lablache," replied Bill, with a mirthless laugh.
"Where?"
Bill looked sharply at the man. He understood the native distrust of the Breed. Then he nodded vaguely in the direction of the Foss River Ranch.