The half-breed grunted, swept his eyes over the cowboy and then over those in the car, and stepped forward to lay the reins in Fresnay's hand.
"Heap easy to ketch um," said he.
Clip and Chub got out to stretch their legs. Welcome gurgled delightedly as he sprawled himself in Clip's seat. Matt continued to watch the half-breed, but covertly.
Fresnay fished a silver dollar out of his pocket.
"I ain't got much dinero about my clothes, neighbor," he observed, "but here's a cart-wheel fer yer trouble."
The half-breed grabbed the dollar, spun it in the air, caught it as it came down, then slipped it into his pocket. As he drew out his hand, Matt saw something in it that looked like a folded paper—perhaps a note. The half-breed tried to conceal the paper in his palm, and Matt believed that he was the only one in the party who saw it.
While Fresnay was climbing to the back of the horse, the half-breed, tossing Matt a significant look, brushed past Clip and tucked the folded paper into his hand with a quick, stealthy movement, then whirled, left the trail and strode quickly away. Clip, his eyes still burning and with a strange look crossing his face, hid the paper deftly in the pocket of his coat.
"Never did like a half-breed nohow," grunted Welcome. "They ain't ter be depended on, an' I makes it a rule to walk around 'em just as I would a rattler."
Clip shot a glance of angry defiance at the garrulous old man. For the moment Welcome had forgotten that Clip was a quarter-blood, himself.