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If Gene doesn't knock him on the head presently he'll begin to get over his scare, even of Nels and Monty. But Gene'll pick out the right time. And I'm gettin' nervous. I want somethin' to start. Never saw Nels in but one fight, then he just shot a Greaser's arm off for tryin' to draw on him. But I've heard all about him. And Monty! Monty's the real old-fashioned gun-man.
But if he had hoped by his accusation to take the man off his guard, it was eminently unsuccessful, for the look on the greaser's face was innocence itself when he declared: "No, no, Señor Sheriff." Rance reflected a moment; suddenly, then, he took another tack. "You see that man there?" he queried, pointing to the Wells Fargo Agent. "That is Ashby.
When Sundown finally arrived at the Concho, he was met by Bud Shoop, who questioned him. Sundown gave a detailed account of his recent exploration. "You say they was no burros at the camp no tarp, or grub, or nothin'?" "Nope. Nothin' but a dead fire," replied Sundown. "Any sheep?" "Mebby four or five. Didn't count 'em." "Huh! Wonder where the rest of the greaser's herd is grazin'?" "I dunno.
Link doubtfully eyed her, and then his bronze face changed its dark aspect and seemed to shine. "Beggin' your pardon, Miss Hammond, thet's shore tall talk fer Link Stevens to savvy. You mean as long as I drive careful an' safe I can run away from my dust, so to say, an' get here in somethin' less than the Greaser's to-morrow?" Madeline had laughed her assent.
Red Bill Summers paused and then grumbled out: "All right, then. She kin ride the greaser's horse. Juan, you yellow-skinned bronco, go git ther ponies." Juan flitted off and presently reappeared, leading half a dozen wiry little ponies. In the meantime the remainder of the band had gathered about Roy and Peggy, regarding them with frank curiosity.
Greaser got here this mornin'." "He tried to rob me in Holston." "'Tain't nothin' new fer Greaser. He's a thief, but I never heerd of him holdin' anybody up. No nerve 'cept to knife a feller in the back." "What'll I do if I meet him here?" "Slam him one! You're a strappin' big lad. Slam him one, an' flash your gun on him. Greaser's a coward. I seen a young feller he'd cheated make him crawl.
At every turn of the road he repeated his reconnoissance, so that our advance was very slow, giving a watchful enemy almost time to place an ambush, if they had none ready prepared. It was as sweet a place for a trap as greaser's heart could wish. On our right was the impenetrable cactus-hedge, with an open space beyond, terminated at the distance of a few yards by a wood or plantain-patch.
"'Suppose I does retire that Greaser's hand from cirk'lation? says Dan, sort o' dispootatious with Enright an' Doc Peets, who's both engaged in p'intin' out Dan's faults. 'Mexicans ain't got no more need for hands than squinch owls has for hymn books. They won't work; they never uses them members except for dealin' monte or clawin' a guitar.
"You shot his ear off," I replied. "He came running back covered with blood. I never saw a man so scared." "Wal, I shore am glad," drawled Jim. "He made off with your mustang," said Dick. This information lessened my gladness at Greaser's escape. Still, I would rather have had him get away on my horse than stay to be shot by Jim. Dick called me to go outside with him.
And because of that impression, when he lifted his head and she saw that he was pale and shaking, she was surprised. He stood before her folding his scarf, which was still wet, and from which he made no effort to remove the red stains. "Miss Hammond," he said, hoarsely, "it was a man's hands a Greaser's finger-nails that cut your arm. I know who he was. I could have killed him.
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