“ ... if you can do it safe. I owe Luck Cullison much as you do, but....”
Again they fell to whispers. The next word that came to Curly clearly was his own name. But it was quite a minute before he gathered what they were saying.
“Luck Cullison went his bail. I learnt it this mo’ning.”
“The son-of-a-gun. It’s a cinch he’s a spy. And me wanting you to let him in so’s he could hold the sack instead of Sam.”
“Knew it wouldn’t do, Lute. He’s smart as a whip.”
“Reckon he knows anything?”
“No. Can’t.”
“If I thought he did——”
“Keep your shirt on, Lute. He don’t know a thing. And you get revenge on him all right. Sam will run with him and his friends while he’s here. Consequence is, when they find the kid where we leave him they’ll sure guess Curly for one of his pardners. Tell you his ticket is good as bought to Yuma. He’s a horse thief. Why shouldn’t he be a train robber, too. That’s how a jury will argue.”
Blackwell grumbled something under his breath.