Ike chuckled again. "Business! Say, how come these Whitneys had a gun on
you?"
"Barr," Jeff inclined his head, "had the idea that I'm a policeman."
"Fer snort's sake!" Ike faced Barr. "Your brain soft? He's a peddler an'
a good 'un. I ought to know. I was in jail with him."
"Leave me loose," Barr snarled, "an' I won't hurt ye."
"'Pears to me you won't anyhow."
"Ye'll not git back down the ridge!"
"Now, now," Ike soothed, "jest leave that to Uncle Ike. I got up it,
didn't I?"
Ike whirled to face Pete and something inside of Jeff turned cold. He
had seen angry men, but suddenly he knew that not even Barr Whitney was
as strong in anger as Ike Wilson. It was an inward quality, for
outwardly he remained very gentle and he did not raise his voice.
"I come fer Bucky."