"Don't lemme forget myself too much. Will I wear a mask?"
"Naturally—and your horse will be seen, your red-and-white pinto that everybody knows. It's something like the trick you worked on Driver and Slike. We listened very careful to your testimony at the hearing. We're grateful to you for the idea, Bill."
Bill tossed away all credit with a wave of his hand. "Oh, you clever fellers would have thought of something just as good. Trust you. Next."
"Everybody on the stage will be able to swear to your clothes and your horse and your guns. One of your guns has a brass guard. That gun especially will be remembered."
"You do think of everything," Bill said in admiration. "But does it sound natural that I'd be using my horse, especially such a conspicuous-lookin' horse as that red-and-white pinto, right where everybody in the stage could see him? Even if I am crazy enough to hold up the stage, you've gotta give me credit for a li'l sense."
"I said there wouldn't be any coarse work," averred Tip. "Your horse will be tied in a li'l patch of woods put of sight of the stage, but just about the time you're lining the passengers up on the trail, your horse will bust out of the li'l patch of woods and show himself plain for everybody to take a look at."
"Somebody will have to drive him out. Suppose he's seen, too?"
Tip shook a lazy head. "Not him. He won't be seen. It will all look mighty natural like an accident. Somethin' scared the horse, that's all."
"After I've robbed the stage what do I do?"
"There you have me," confessed Tip. "I don't know what you'll do. You might ride away and keep going for several weeks. That would be the sensible thing to do."