"Now, Kid," he counseled, "I want you to make yourself scarce around here from now on. Don't let Frosty know you're in the diggin's at all. We boys are going to give it out that you've gone to Fort Worth, so that he and Mrs. La Rue won't watch Miss Minnie quite so close."
The Kid obediently withdrew from public life, spending most of his days in the back room of the big store, where a few sympathizing friends were always ready to bear him company; and the word went out that he had, in despair, given up camping on Miss Minnie's trail and gone off to Fort Worth.
This intelligence reaching old man La Rue--Gilbert wondered a little if it were possible any of it came to him through Aunt Huldah--had the desired effect of relaxing the watch upon the girl.
The first move in Gilbert's game was to waylay Frosty's Mexican, and bribe him to feign sickness. To this José promptly consented; and he counterfeited with such vigor, and so to the life, that the proprietor of the show was beside himself; for it was too late to teach a new man the management of the fireworks.
And now came Gilbert's second move. He approached the old man with the inquiry, "Why, what's the racket, Frosty? Something the matter with some of your outfit?"
La Rue sweepingly condemned the whole republic of Mexico in general, and José Romero in particular, winding up with the statement that the no-account greaser had gone and got sick, here at the last minute--Frosty would seem to imply, out of sheer perversity--and when it was too late to teach another his duties.
Upon this, Gilbert unfolded his scheme with a careful carelessness.
"Fireworks? Why, do you know, Frosty, I believe I could do your fireworks for you all right. I know fireworks pretty well, and I saw your 'Columbia' at Emerald last year."
"And would you do it, Gilbert?" asked La Rue. "It wouldn't _pay_," added the tight-fisted old fellow. "It wouldn't pay _you_--a man like _you_; but--"
"Oh, I just don't want to see the boys disappointed and the show spoiled," rejoined Gilbert. "I don't want any money."
La Rue was almost ready to embrace the sheriff of Wild Horse County. His burdens had not been light, even before the despised José's defection. There was a multitude of things, big and little, which could not well be carried with a show of the sort, but had always to be picked up locally, at the last moment; and a crude little cow-town like Blowout not only failed to supply many of these, but stood, as one might say, with dropped jaw at the very suggestion of them--at the mere mention of their unfamiliar names.