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He wailed the last, sadly, as a complaint unspeakable. "Any trouble doin'?" inquired the old man. "You KNOW it!" the other cried, colloquially. "There was a massacree in the Northern last night." "Gamblin' row?" "Yep. Tin-horn called 'Missou' done it." "Sho!" said Dextry. "I know him. He's a bad actor."
"All right. Take the trees. Y'u'll be able to get into the game some then." They debouched from the road to the little grove and slipped from their horses. "Deader'n hell," murmured Missou, as he lifted the limp body from his horse. "But I guess we'll pack what's left back to the little lady at the Lazy D."
"Get into these, seh. Denver shucked them for me. That coyote must have noticed what we wore before he slid out. Y'u can bet the orders are to watch for us as we were dressed then." "What are y u going to do?" "Me? I'm scheduled to be Aaron Burr, seh. Missou swaps with me when he gets back here.
Here's Wun Hop, not what y'u might call anxious, but ce'tainly willing. Then Denver's some in the turtle-dove business, according to that hash-slinger in Cheyenne. Missou might be induced to accept if it was offered him proper; and I allow Jim ain't turned the color of Redtop's hair jest for instance. I don't want to leave out 'Frisco and the other boys carrying Bannister's pills "
Denver and Missou are playing the wheel down at the Silver Dollar. I reckon we better make those boys jump and run errands for us while we lie low. I'll drop in casual and give them the word. Meet y'u here in ten minutes. Whatever y'u do, keep that mask on your face." "Better meet farther from the scene of trouble. Suppose we say the north gate of the grand stand?" "Good enough. So-long."
"Well, if you ain't up and started a business college already. I had ought to have brought a typewriter along with me," murmured Missou ironically. "How are things stacking? Our friends the enemy getting busy yet?" asked Bannister, folding and addressing his note. "That's what. Orders gone out to guard every road so as not to let you pass.
Seemed like he didn't want to sit down and talk." "I shouldn't wonder but he'll hold his conversations standing for a day or two," returned Missou gravely. At the end of the laugh that greeted this Mac replied: "Well, y'u boys want to be gentle with him." "He's so plumb tender now that I reckon he'll get along without any more treatment in that line from us," drawled Frisco.
When it was all over, the big, tanned men gathered at the entrance to the calf corral and expanded in admiration of their new boss. "She's a pure for fair. She grades up any old way yuh take her to the best corn-fed article on the market," pronounced Denver, with enthusiasm. "I got to ride the boundary," sighed Missou. "I kinder hate to go right now." "Here, too," acquiesced another.
"S'posin' we put this race off until to-morrow afternoon, an' run it over at Snyder, across the line in Oklahomy?" "What's ther occasion?" asked Bud. "Jest ter give ther people over thar a chance ter see a real live race. Besides, I'm out o' money, an' I reckon we could have a reg'lar race, an' charge admission. That would enable me an' my grandson ter git back ter ole Missou' again.
A few desultory shots had already been dropped among the cottonwoods, and returned by the defendants when Missou let out a yell of triumph. "Glory Hallelujah! Here comes the boys splittin' down the road hell-for-leather. That lopsided, ring-tailed snorter of a hawss-thief is gathering his wolves for a hike back to the tall timber. Feed me a cigareet, Mac. I plumb want to celebrate."
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