"When you meet up with us we'll be there," retorted the heavy-weight. "Let's go, Steve."
The long man nodded. "Adiós, boys."
"See you later, and when I meet up with you, it'll be me 'n' you to a finish," the Texan called.
The thud of the retreating, hoofs grew faint and died. Already Moore was busy with the rope that tied them together.
"What's the matter, kid? You shakin' for the drinks? Didn't you see from the first we weren't in any danger? If they'd wanted to harm us, they could have shot us from the brush. How much was in that belt?"
"Six thousand dollars," the boy groaned.
"Well, it doesn't cost you a cent. Cheer up, son."
By this time Moore had both his arms free and was loosening one of the knots.
"I was in charge of it. I'll never dare face Mr. Wadley."
"Sho! It was his own fault. How in Mexico come he to send a boy to market for such a big stake?"