And Crowley looked at the battered group and laughed. He knew that the situation was a dangerous one for the boy, and that it had to be handled with considerable tact; and he chose one of the strongest weapons at his command—ridicule. Keeping his eye on "One-Card" Tucker and Pedro—the latter had not come out of the fracas unscathed, and although he had not said anything, was a dangerous customer,—Crowley continued: "Fur 's I'm concerned, personal', bein' only a growed man an' him a boy, I'm calc'latin' on climbin' a tree whenever I git his scent; but 't looks t' me 's though we all might band together an' pertect ourselfs agin ol' Calamity, here, without cuttin' his throat er shootin' him up when his hands is tied!
"Look here, Bud," he said, turning to Whitey, and tactfully trying to change the subject, "how cum yo' to git loose, anyhow? I know I done roped yo' myself, an' I ain't no amachoor—not at ropin', I ain't."
"One of our Bar O cattle that you thieves 'counterfeited' was a friend of mine and came up and ate the rope in two!" said Whitey, with a laugh. "How else do you suppose I could get loose?"
As Whitey said these indiscreet words Ross uttered an oath and started to draw his gun.
"That settles it!" he said. "He's wise to the whole game, an' I'm goin' to cook his goose right now!" And this determination seemed to meet with general approval. Tucker and Pedro drew nearer and backed Ross up.
Crowley turned swiftly and faced them, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Be yo' goin' to play a lone hand," asked Crowley, "er is this a free-fer-all? I ain't noway pertic'lar, but I jes' want t' know whether I'm foreman here er not."
"Yo're foreman, all right," said Ross, boiling with rage, "but I'm the Boss! An' I say I'm goin' to croak the little skunk!"
Crowley stood perfectly still between the three men and the boy, his hands on his hips, and his jaw set tight.
"Le' 's see yo' try it!" he said. "I'm standin' right here an' waitin'!"