He turned to Macy. "Look here, Cap. Haven't I played
the game all fall? Don't I get what I want now we're through?"
The voice of the young man was excited. His eyes had lost their quiet
steadiness and roved restlessly to and fro. If Big Bill had held any
doubts one glance dissipated them.
"Sure you do. Hustle over and help Dud with the breakfast, Holt. I'll
look out for our friend."
Elliot and Holt found no more chance to talk together that morning.
Sometimes the young Government official lay staring straight in front
of him. Sometimes he appeared to doze. Again he would talk in the
disjointed way of one not clear in the head.
An opportunity came in the afternoon for a moment.
"Keep your eyes skinned for a chance to lay out the guard to-night and
get his gun," Holt said quickly.
Gordon nodded. "I don't know that I've got to do everything just as you
say," he complained aloud for the benefit of George, who was passing on
his way to the place where the horses were hobbled.
"Now--now! There ain't nobody trying to boss you," Holt explained in a
patient voice.
"They'd better not," snapped the invalid.
"Some scrapper--that kid," said the horse wrangler with a grin.
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