“I don’t see what your object is in shooting me, who haven’t done you any harm,” I said, addressing myself to Henderson, “but I tell you not to attempt anything with that rifle. If you do, I will tumble you off your saddle!”
“Henderson will not attempt to shoot us with that,” said Bill. “If he does he will have three of us to contend with, and I think that is rather more than he can manage. Now, Henderson, go for Austin as soon as you can get there.”
“And give up my share of those thirty thousand dollars?” exclaimed Henderson, his astonishment getting the better of his alarm. “Now, Bill, that isn’t right!”
Almost before Henderson had got through with these words of protest, Bill’s hand laid hold of his revolver, while with the other he pointed out the direction he was to follow. I noticed that Jack’s revolver came out also--he had been sitting in his saddle all this time--and rested across the horn, directly in range with Henderson’s person. He saw that everything was up with him, and without saying a word turned his horse and rode away; and I may add that was the last I ever saw of Henderson. We went to Austin a short time afterward, and, although we kept a bright lookout for him, not a thing did we see of him. Whatever became of him I don’t know.
“Well, Carlos, so-long,” said Bill, when Henderson had ridden away out of hearing. “I hope you will reach the States in safety. Put it there.”
“Are you going to leave me here?” said I, overjoyed.
“Yes, I reckon we might as well. What do you say, Jack?”
“Let the kid go. He’s a brave lad,” returned Jack.
“Now, Bill,” said I, as I took the outlaw’s hand in mine, “I want to say something, if I thought you would not take it to heart.”
“No preaching, now!” said Bill, with a laugh.
“No, I won’t preach. Why do you do this?”
“Well, that’s preaching, and I didn’t agree to answer every one of your questions.”
“You see something about me that reminds you of days when you did not do this way,” said I. “That person don’t know where you are, and----”
“That’s neither here nor there,” said Bill impatiently. “So-long, Carlos. Come on, Jack.”
Jack reached down from his saddle in order to give me a good shake, and then clattered off up the prairie after Bill. I stood and watched them for a long time, but neither of them looked around, and finally the nearest swell hid them from sight. There was something good about that man, and I never heard of him afterward. Probably he lost his life in some of his numerous raiding expeditions. But there was one thing about it: He left one boy behind who was sorry for him.