"In coorse I did--bein' there myself, on a like lay."
"Well?" interrogates the other, feigning coolness.
"Well; that, as I've said, some leetle bamboozled me. From your looks
and ways since you first came hyar, I guessed that the something wrong
must be different from a love-scrape. Sartint, a man stayin' at the
Choctaw Chief, and sporting the cheap rig as you've got on, wan't likely
to be aspirin' to sech dainty damsels as them. You'll give in,
yourself, it looked a leetle queer; didn't it?"
"I don't know that it did," is the reply, pronounced doggedly, and in an
assumed tone of devil-may-care-ishness.
"You don't! Well, I thought so, up to the time o' gettin' back to the
tavern hyar--not many minutes afore my meetin' and askin' you to jine us
in drinks. If you've any curiosity to know what changed my mind, I'll
tell ye."
"What?" asks Darke, scarcely reflecting on his words.
"That ere newspaper you war readin' when I gave you the invite. I read
it _afore_ you did, and had ciphered out the whole thing. Puttin' six
and six thegither, I could easy make the dozen. The same bein', that
one of the young ladies stayin' at the hotel is the Miss Helen Armstrong
spoke of in the paper; and the man I observed watchin' her is Richard
Darke, who killed Charles Clancy--_yourself_!"
"I--I am--I won't--I don't deny it to you, Mr Borlasse. I am Richard
Darke. I did kill Charles Clancy; though I protest against its being
said I _murdered_ him."
"Never mind that. Between friends, as I suppose we can now call
ourselves, there need be no nice distinguishin' of tarms. Murder or
manslaughter, it's all the same, when a man has a motive sech as yourn.
An' when he's druv out o' the pale of what they call society, an' hunted
from the settlements, he's not like to lose the respect of them who's
been sarved the same way. Your bein' Richard Darke an' havin' killed
Charles Clancy, in no ways makes you an enemy o' Jim Borlasse--except in
your havin' robbed me of a revenge I'd sworn to take myself. Let that
go now. I ain't angry, but only envious o' you, for havin' the
satisfaction of sendin' the skunk to kingdom come, without givin' me the
chance. An' now, Mister Darke, what do you intend doin'?"
The question comes upon the assassin with a sobering effect. His
copious potations have hitherto kept him from reflecting.
Despite the thieve's confidence with which Borlasse has inspired him,
this reference to his future brings up its darkness, with its dangers;
and he pauses before making response.
Without waiting for it, his questioner continues:
"If you've got no fixed plan of action, and will listen to the advice of
a friend, I'd advise you to become _one o' us_."
"One of you! What does that mean, Mr Borlasse?"
"Well, I can't tell you here," answers Borlasse, in a subdued tone.
"Desarted as this bar-room appear to be, it's got ears for all that. I
see that curse, Johnny, sneakin' about, pretendin' to be lookin' after
his supper. If he knew as much about you as I do, you'd be in limbo
afore you ked get into your bed. I needn't tell you thar's a reward
offered; for you seed that yourself in the newspaper. Two thousand
dollars for you, an' five hundred dollars for the fellow as I've seed
about along wi' you, and who I'd already figured up as bein' jailer Joe
Harkness. Johnny, an' a good many more, would be glad to go halves with
me, for tellin' them only half of what I now know. _I_ ain't goin' to
betray you. I've my reasons for not. After what's been said I reckon
you can trust me?"
"I can," rejoins the assassin, heaving a sigh of relief.
"All right, then," resumes Borlasse; "we understand one another. But it
won't do to stay palaverin hyar any longer. Let's go up to my bedroom.
We'll be safe there; and I've got a bottle of whisky, the best stuff for
a nightcap. Over that we can talk things straight, without any one
havin' the chance to set them crooked. Come along!"
Darke, without protest, accepts the invitation. He dares not do
otherwise. It sounds more like a command. The man extending it has now
full control over him; can deliver him to justice--have him dragged to a
jail.