"But what in—what do I need money for, Whit? Ain’t th’ range an’ th’ cattle enough?"
"Of course they are. But the German wants to see some cash capital and it will do no harm to give him plenty of rope, will it now?"
"But, Whit," objected Hopalong, "if yo ’re shore it’s th’ Dutchman, we can drive him out of th’ country so quick he ’ll burn his feet. Men ’s been shot for less ’n he ’s done."
"You can’t do it, Cassidy. The agency has n’t been able to get a bit of proof. And McAllister is set against anything rash. I thought at one time he had put on another man. There ’s a chap who makes his headquarters at Twin River who ’s busy, no end. The agency rather suspected he was one of Schatz’s men. Sharp chap, that. And he can’t be working on his own hook, can he?"
He glanced at Buck as if expecting a reply.
"That’s Tex Ewalt, Whit," informed Mary. "He ’s on our side."
"Ah! do you know, I thought as much. My word, I ’m thirsty; wish I had a brandy and soda here." He paused to take a drink of water, shaking his head when Buck motioned to the whiskey. "I ’m afraid I shall never get used to that rye of yours," he declared, mournfully.
Buck turned to Hopalong. "What do you make of it?" he asked.
"If it depended on you alone, Buck, it would be easier to answer. But McAllister is in th’ game an’ it shore ain’t Frenchy: we both know what he ’d ’a’ done. What does McAllister think o’ this partnership deal?" he asked Whitby.
"He has n’t heard of it, but I ’m sure he would agree with me."
"All right!" exclaimed Buck. "We’ll let Mac make th’ runnin’. If it looks like he ’s goin’ to lose th’ race it will be all th’ easier to drop th’ winner if we got him in gun range. But I shore hates to pay big interest, like I must, a-puttin’ up money that way."
"Let me lend it you, Buck," advised Whitby. "The Governor will cable it fast enough when I ask for it. You won’t have to pay me a penny interest. And when things settle down a bit you can turn it over to McAllister. I shall stop in this country. I like it, by Jove! And I ’m jolly well sure McAllister will sell out to me, particularly if—I say, Buck, have I made good out here in the West?"
Buck laughed as he grasped Whitby’s hand. "Made good!" he repeated. "Yo ’re th’ best Britisher I ever knew an’ I ’ve met some good ones in my time." With Hopalong’s slap on his shoulder and Mary smiling at him from her chair by the window, Whitby felt that it was likely to prove a very pleasant country "when things settled down a bit."