“Well, he said yuh was jist brainless enough to make a good puncher, if that’s what yuh mean.”
“Don’t cowpunchers have any brains, Mr. Bonnette?”
“Huh!” The old man spat explosively. “Evidence is all agin’ ’em! If they had any brains, they wouldn’t punch cows.”
Jimmy thanked him for the half-pay job, and rode away with the three cowpunchers, after Bonnette had warned them not to antagonize the sheriff again.
“Yo’re gettin’ a bad reputation,” declared Bonnette. “Next thing I know I’ll have some cripples hobblin’ around here.”
“We’re plumb antiseptic now,” assured Johnny Grant. “There ain’t money enough in the crowd to start anythin’.”
They headed for town, talking about the robbery. None of them had told Jimmy about their battle with the engineer and fireman. The AK boys were tight-mouthed over it, because they didn’t want to be hauled in on the case, and they were just a little suspicious about Jimmy Legg.
Near where the AK road paralleled the railroad, it intersected with the road from Encinas, and as they neared the intersection they saw two riders coming from the east, jogging along through the dust, as if time was of no importance.
The four riders from the AK drew rein and waited for the two cowboys, thinking them to be two of the Blue Wells riders. But in this they were mistaken, as the two riders were strangers to the country.
One of them was a lean, rangy sort of individual, with a long face, prominent nose, wide mouth, and widely spaced blue eyes, set in a mass of tiny wrinkles. The other rider was of medium height, rather blocky of countenance, wide-mouthed, and with deep grin-wrinkles, which seemed to end beneath a firm jaw. His eyes were wide, blue and innocent.