"That's so. You've got a sporting spirit after all, Crafty. You'd
think running a gambling house so long would have taken it out of you,
sort of. Might be your ranch has saved you. And suppose I don't feel
like having you risk your valuable life, Crafty, what then?"
"Then the deal can be arranged," Tip answered for Craft. "Give us your
word Bill, and you can walk out that door and ride back to Golden Bar
right after breakfast. Right now, if you don't want to wait."
Billy looked incredulous. "You mean to tell me, Tip, that you'd take
my bare word?"
"You're whistling we would," Tip declared heartily. "Everybody knows
your word is good."
"I've never broken it yet, but don't you see, once broken, what good is
it?"
"But if you give it, you wouldn't break it. We know you."
"But if I give my word to you to do this thing, I will have broken
it--to the territory. When I took office I made oath to obey and
uphold the laws. I guess maybe you forgot that."
Tip looked a trifle dashed. "Well--" he began.
"You see," interrupted Billy, "If I broke my word to the territory, I'd
break it to you likely. Anyway, what guarantee have you that I
wouldn't?"
"Looks like there was only one trail out," Craft said briefly.
"Gimme something to eat first," Billy implored, rubbing his empty
stomach.
"We'll do that much for you," said Tip. "And while you're eatin' you
think it over. There's a lot to be said for what we want you to do.
Think how easy it is, Bill. Just go a li'l slow is all we want. And
think what you get by it--complete freedom otherwise and that ten
thousand a year easy money we spoke of a while back. Ten thousand
ain't to be sneezed at these days. I dunno where you'd make it any
easier."
"Neither do I," Billy admitted frankly.
"You don't want to go to jail now, do you, Bill?" wheedled Tip.
"Sure not," was the prompt answer.
"Of course you don't. And if you decide to accept our offer, Bill, the
secret will be left behind right in this room. No one will ever know
anything about it. To your friends you will be one of the straightest
sheriffs Crocker County ever had. Oh, I know what you're thinking of.
You're afraid of what Hazel Walton might think. But----"
"Let's leave her out of this," Bill struck in sharply.
"All right," acquiesced Tip, with a slight cough, "we will. Alla same,
Bill, who's to ever know what you did?"
"I'd know for one," Billy observed simply. "And suppose I tell
somebody? You know I never could keep a secret."
"I told you how it would be, Tip," remarked Craft. "He's too damn
honest for any use."
Billy nodded his gratitude. "Felix, I thank you. At least you are a
friend of mine."
"You forget me," said the disappointed Tip. "If it hadn't been for the
ground-and-lofty talking done by yours truly, you, William, would have
already gone where the good Indians go. I can tell you, Felix and Sam
are downright disgruntled with you."
"Felix, I take it all back," grieved Billy. "At the first convenient
opportunity I shall drop a li'l arsenic in your coffee or a li'l lead
pill in your system. I dunno which yet. And that goes for you too,
Sam."
"What's that?" queried Sam, entering with a large platter of ham, eggs
and potatoes and setting it down on the table. When Bill had
explained, he smiled grimly. "Yep," said Sam Larder. "You've been a
thorn in our well-known side for some time. Trimming you off the
parent stem would do you--and us--a heap of good."
"I see," remarked Billy, sliding from the bed and hooking up a chair to
the table, "I see that the patient is not yet out of danger. But the
doctors have not completely despaired of his life. How about it, Tip?
You haven't given me up yet, have you?"
"Bill," said Tip irritably, "you're a fool."
"But not a damn fool," returned Bill with his mouth full. "You'll have
to admit there is a method in my madness."