“That sounds easy, but how are we going to get out of this hole without our ponies which the cattle drove off?” inquired Ki Yi. “I’m not keen on walking myself, especially when you’re liable to sink out of sight if you don’t step just so.”
“Oh, we can keep hold of Nig’s rope,” rejoined Deadshot.
“No need walk,” grunted the aged scout.
“How are we going, fly?” grinned the man from the Star and Moon. “I’m sorry, but I haven’t got my airship with me this trip,” he added, jestingly, seeking to restore Nig’s good humor—which the escape of his arch-enemy through the hands of the ranchmen and cowboys had sadly upset. “But perhaps you have one hidden in the swamp somewhere back of us, like you did your pony, Nig.”
“Paleface heap funny—nit!” snapped the old half-breed. “Maybe no think so if Louie get um scalp.”
“That sure wouldn’t make a hit with me,” rejoined Ki Yi. “But if Deadshot and me haven’t got to walk, will you kindly tell us how we are to travel, seeing as how we’ve only got one pony among three?”
“And that one so short, Ki Yi couldn’t sit it without pulling up his knees,” added the member of the Double Cross outfit.
“Pinto carry plenty easy—but slow,” responded Nig.
“Well, if that flea bitten bunch of hide and bones can stand it, I reckon we can,” grinned Ki Yi.
But, despite his mocking words, both he and the other cowboy glanced at the little piece of horseflesh with renewed respect and only too thankful to be spared the danger from a misstep which would land them in a sucking mudhole or from being bitten by some deadly poisonous snake, the two cowpunchers mounted behind their aged guide.