"I can guess, I reckon," he drawled.
"It means war—and soon."
"And war is hell, Sherman said. Let's make it hell for Bothwell. It's about time for me to begin earning my passage. What's the matter with me happening down into the forecastle and inviting Capt. Bothwell up to be more sociable?"
"Won't do at all. If he were alone it would be a different matter. If you went down there you'd never come up alive. We need every man we've got. Think of the women."
His light-blue eye rested in mine.
"I'd give twenty cows if they were back in Los Angeles, Jack."
From my pocket I took the key which unlocked the door of the room we called the armory. After I had selected two revolvers I left him there attending to business. Morgan I found in Blythe's cabin. He took my news quietly enough, though he lost color when I told him what we had to expect.
"I don't know much about revolvers, sir," he said, handling very respectfully the one I handed him.
"You'll know more in a day or two," I promised. "Morgan, we're going to beat these scoundrels. Be quite sure of that."
"Yes, sir. Glad to hear it, sir," he answered doubtfully.