McGowan began to expand, and to congratulate himself.
“Faith, it’s your strong arm we need,” said he. “It’s a hefty fist you have, Buffalo Bill, and a sharp mind back of it.”
“Thanks,” said the scout dryly. “If I did not bank a little on you, McGowan, I might suspect that this was a put-up job, of which you were fully cognizant.”
“Why, in order to secure my aid, you might have been tempted to implicate my Dutch pard.”
“If you think that----” he began angrily, but the scout smiled and stretched out a hand soothingly.
“I don’t,” said he. “I’ve only seen you twice, but I’m willing to bank on your integrity. You’re the sort of a man I’d like to help.”
McGowan was entirely pacified. The king of scouts had a winning way with him, when he so desired, and that way was now much in evidence.
“I’d think it an honor,” said McGowan, “to have Buffalo Bill help me.”
“That you consent to let the sheriff take those irons off my pard’s wrists. In other words, he must be a free man before I hook-up with you.”
“That’s hardly according to Hoyle,” demurred McGowan, visibly worried.
“It’s according to Buffalo Bill. You have my proposition. Take it or leave it.”
“Why, if your pard is left in this jail and brought to trial, you’ll have to work for me in order to prove his innocence, won’t you?”
“I’ll not work for you, McGowan, but I’ll work for him. You’d find that to be vastly different.”
“You’d better do as the scout says, McGowan,” put in Rising. “If he’s going to help you, you’d better let him do it in his own way. Catching a man with the goods on doesn’t always prove him a thief.”
“I don’t know who to suspect,” said McGowan, “if we don’t suspect the Dutchman.”
“Never mind that. What’s your last word?”
McGowan debated the matter with himself for a moment. Then, finally, “Take off the darbies,” he said to Rising.
The manacles were removed, and Rising shook hands with the baron.
“I haf peen imbosed ubon,” said the baron, “und I feel schust like some hornets mit a shtinger oudt. Puffalo Pill iss my pard, und der pest feller vat efer vore shoe-ledder; he shtands py me, you bed you, aber I feel so madt I vant to fighdt.”
“Get over it,” said McGowan crustily. “You’re free. What more do you want?”
“I vant dot imbression dot I’m guildy all der same remofed from your mindt,” scowled the baron. “Dot’s vot I vant!”