"But I'm asking you to look after my wife and my son."

"I'll do that."

"You'll save the boy from his father's trade?"

"I reckon."

"Put her thar."

And they shook hands.

"Them horses we was riding," said the outlaw, "is for my son."

"That's all right."

"And one thing more. This yere Brooke ain't white."

"You don't say!"