“I don’t understand,” said Brice impatiently.

“Well,” said Bill, with more provoking slowness, as if he were communing with himself rather than Brice, “Harry’s mighty proud and high toned, and to be given away like this has cut down into his heart, you bet.  It ain’t the money he’s thinkin’ of; it’s this split in the gang—­the loss of his power ez boss, ye see—­and ef he could get hold o’ them chaps he’d let the money slide ez long ez they didn’t get it.  So you’ve got a detective on your side that’s worth the whole police force of Californy!  Ye never heard anything about Snapshot Harry, did ye?” asked Bill carelessly, raising his eyes to Brice’s eager face.

The young man flushed slightly.  “Very little,” he said.  At the same time a vision of the pretty girl in the settler’s cabin flashed upon him with a new significance.

“He’s more than half white, in some ways,” said Bill thoughtfully, “and they say he lives somewhere about here in a cabin in the bush, with a crippled sister and her darter, who both swear by him.  It mightn’t be hard to find him—­ef a man was dead set on it.”

Brice faced about with determined eyes.  “I’ll do it,” he said quietly.

“Ye might,” said Bill, still more deliberately stroking his beard, “mention my name, ef ye ever get to see him.”

“Your name,” ejaculated the astonished Brice.

“My name,” repeated Bill calmly.  “He knows it’s my bounden duty to kill him ef I get the chance, and I know that he’d plug me full o’ holes in a minit ef thar war a necessity for it.  But in these yer affairs, sonny, it seems to be the understood thing by the kempany that I’m to keep fiery young squirts like you, and chuckle-headed passengers like them”—­jerking his thumb towards the other room—­“from gettin’ themselves killed by their rashness.  So ontil the kempany fill the top o’ that coach with men who ain’t got any business to do but fightin’ other men who ain’t got any other business to do but to fight them—­the odds are agin us!  Harry has always acted square to me—­that’s how I know he ain’t in this sneak-thief business, and why he didn’t foller us, suspectin’ suthin’, and I’ve always acted square to him.  All the same, I’d like ter hev seen his face when that box was opened!  Lordy!” Here Bill again collapsed in his silent paroxysm of mirth.  “Ye might tell him how I laughed!”

“I would hardly do that, Bill,” said the young man, smiling in spite of himself.  “But you’ve given me an idea, and I’ll work it out.”

Bill glanced at the young fellow’s kindling eyes and flushing cheek, and nodded.  “Well, rastle with that idea later on, sonny.  I’ll fix you all right in my report to the kempany, but the rest you must work alone.  I’ve started out the usual posse, circus-ridin’ down the road after Harry.  He’d be a rough customer to meet just now,” continued Bill, with a chuckle, “ef thar was the ghost of a chance o’ them comin’ up with him, for him and his gang is scattered miles away by this.”  He paused, tossed off another glass of whiskey, wiped his mouth, and saying to Brice, with a wink, “It’s about time to go and comfort them thar passengers,” led the way through the crowded barroom into the stage office.