“Maybe not. That ain’t the point. He needs me. Do I get a horse?”
“Yes, if you’re bound an’ determined to go,” Harshaw said. After a momentary hesitation he added: “And if any of the boys want to go along they can. I’m not hinderin’ them. But my advice is for them to stick right here.”
Bob’s eyes swept the little group round him. “Any one want to take a chance? We’ll snake Houck outa the willows an’ make a getaway sure.”
“Or else you’ll stay there with him permanent,” Harshaw contributed. “It’s plumb foolishness, boys. Houck had his orders an’ he broke away from them deliberate. He’d ought to take what’s comin’.”
Dud pleaded with Dillon. “If it was anybody but Houck, Bob, I’d trail along with you. I sure would. But I can’t see as there’s any call for us to take such a big risk for him. He’s got it in for us both. Said himself he was layin’ for us. You stood by him to a fare-you-well. Ain’t that enough?”
Bob did not attempt to reason. He simply stated facts. “No, I got to go back, Dud. He’s a mighty sick man, an’ he needs me. The Utes are liable to find him any time. Maybe I could stand ’em off.”
“An’ maybe you couldn’t,” Blister said. “It’s plumb s-suicide.”
Dillon looked at his fat friend with a faint, dreary smile. He did not himself relish the task before him. “Thought you told me to be a wolf, to hop to it every chance I got to do some crazy thing.”
Blister hedged. “Oh, well, a f-fellow wants to have some sense. I never see a good thing that couldn’t be r-run into the ground. Far as I know, I never told you to stand on the D. & R. G. tracks an’ try to stop the express with yore head.”
“I’ll have to be going now,” Bob said. He turned to Harshaw. “Where’s that bronc I get to carry me back?”