“I drove them both out of this camp.”
“Why?” queried Warburton, sharply.
“Blake tried to bribe me, and Coffee—”
“One at a time,” interrupted Warburton, and he thrust a strong hand through his hair, ruffling it. He began to scent battle. “What did Blake try to bribe you to do?”
“He didn’t say. But he meant me to cover their tracks.”
“So!... And what did Coffee do?”
“He tried to pull a gun on me.”
“Why? Be explicit, please.”
“Well, he threatened me. And I laughed at him—called him names.”
“What names?”