In answer to the Ranger's "Hello, the house!" the cattleman came out in his shirt-sleeves.
Jack cut straight to business.
"I've come to see you about that Mexican Alviro, Mr. Wadley. Is it true they're goin' to lynch him?"
The hard eyes of the grizzled Texan looked full at Roberts. This young fellow was the one who had beaten his son and later had had the impudence to burn as a spill for a cigarette the hundred-dollar bill he had sent him.
"Whyfor do you ask me about it?" he demanded harshly.
"Because you've got to help me stop this thing."
The cattleman laughed mirthlessly. "They can go as far as they like for me. Suits me fine. Hangin' is too good for him. That's all I've got to say."
Already he had refused the pleadings of his daughter, and he had no intention of letting this young scalawag change his mind.
"Are you sure this Mexican is guilty—sure he's the man who killed yore son, Mr. Wadley?"
"He's as guilty as hell."