‘Do you know that Bill Dobell is in camp?’ asked Absalom, putting more mystery and importance into his manner than before.
‘No; I guess I did not know it,’ replied Ben. ‘If so, he had better clear out soon; or before I go, I will leave a message which will send a dozen of the boys after him, and will teach him that the Vigilantes are not dead yet.’
‘It will be too late,’ said the other.—‘Now tell me, Ben, has not Indian Peter offered to buy the mules and wagon that you have in Fandango Gulch? And are you not to meet him there at sundown to settle the trade?’
‘Certainly,’ replied Ben, still wondering, but with much less disposition to smile. The little man’s earnestness had impressed him, and he, moreover, began to regard the conjunction of names as ominous.
‘Well, then, Ben,’ continued Absalom, glancing nervously around him and dropping his voice to a whisper, ‘it is all a planned thing with Rube, your pardner, and these other two. You will go to Fandango Gulch; but you will never leave it alive! Bill Dobell is to have five hundred dollars in gold-dust for shooting you; and Indian Peter is to have something for trapping you down there.’
‘And Rube?’ asked Ben, in a voice which told how far he was from doubting this strange story.
‘Wal, Rube of course is to be the paymaster. He says you have a sight of plunder in—in those two valises,’ said Absalom, pointing to a couple of old but strong travelling-bags in a corner of the tent. ‘You know best if he is right.’
‘How do you know all this?’ demanded Ben sternly.
‘I have been having drinks with the boys at Rattlesnake Claim,’ returned Absalom, ‘and so have not gone to my own shanty lately. You know that is a long way outside the city. Two nights ago, I slept at Big Donald’s. Last night, I felt real bad, and so I got into Indian Peter’s shanty. I thought he had left the camp for a day or two, so I crept under some buffalo robes to have my sleep. I was woke by some men talking, and I was about to crawl out, when I recognised Bill Dobell’s voice; and you know he has threatened to shoot me at sight, for telling how he broke the stamp-mill. So I lay low, and heard Rube settle with them other two. Of course I made up my mind to tell you, and have been hanging around here all day to get a chance of seeing you by yourself. And it is my belief, Ben, that Rube met Californy Jones on the night that scallawag went off with your gold-dust.’
‘I feel considerable certain he did,’ returned Ben; ‘and I have told Rube as much.’