“Where did you pick up that darkey, Doctor?” asked Cummings.

“In St. Louis, about five years ago.  He is a good one, faithful and brave, and will never squeal.  He is just the man to help us on this new deal.”

The subject of this conversation was all this time galloping over the level prairie, following closely behind Moriarity, who, with his rifle thrown across the pommel of his saddle, was on the look out for anything in the way of game which might come along.

As they rode along they would meet one of the herders sitting at ease on his horse, or galloping madly after some refractory steer that was making a break for freedom.  They had, in their ride, passed four of these men, and to every one Scip gave a signal, merely the wave of his hand in a peculiar manner, to which the men had responded likewise.  They were nearing another stand, the ranchman, astride his pony, stood against the sky like a bronze bit of sculpture.  As they came within speaking distance Scip, drawing in his horse, said.

“I’s goin’ to loaf aroun’ heah a bit, Massa Dan, I’ll wait fer you.”

“All right,” responded Dan, who gave his horse the spurs and swiftly disappeared behind the swell of land.  Scip, walking his nag, drew near the cowboy.

“Hye thar, honey, got any ’bacco?”

“Plenty, blacky, plenty,”

“Den give me some.”

“What is it, Chip?” asked the cowboy as Moriarity swept out of sight.

“We have work to do to-morrow night, Barney, you must get the boys together, go down the divide to the ford and cross over, ready to come when I whistle.  To-morrow night we must bag our game.”

“We will be there, Chip, and I am glad of it, for its devilish monotonous staying out here all day.”

“There will be a break in the monotony that will suit you.  Be sure to be at the other side of the ford before twelve to-morrow night.”

Chip then explained to him the details of the projected robbery and the plan of capturing the outlaws as soon as they had crossed into Kansas, for the divide was the southern state line of that state.

Barney, again repeating his statement that he would be there, loped his horse after some cattle that was straying too far off, and Chip, or rather Scip, stretching himself on the ground, awaited Moriarity’s return.

They arrived home in time for supper, and found Swanson had returned from Blue Jacket, where he had gone that morning, and the fact that he had made up beds for the Doctor and Scip in a side room was accepted by Cummings as proof that he had received the money he expected and wanted the room to himself that he might put his wealth behind the picture unobserved.