When Sanders heard this he threw back his head and burst into a loud laugh, in which he was joined by Tom. Julian could not see that he had said anything calculated to excite their mirth, but the outlaws could, and they were highly amused—so much so that it was fully five minutes before they recovered themselves sufficiently to speak.
“Wal, you are a green one,” said Sanders, at length. “The minute Reginald puts his eyes on you he will say that you are the very chap he’s been a-lookin’ fur so long, an’ instead of releasin’ you he’ll lock you up whar you’ll never see daylight again. Maybe he’ll do something wuss—I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t put myself in your place and run the risk,” chimed in Tom. “But I’d a heap sooner be rubbed out to onct than be shut up in that rancho of his’n. Sich queer doin’s as they do have thar! The ole man can’t keep a thing in his house.”
“‘Cause it’s stole from him, that’s the reason—money, we’pons, clothes, grub—everything. He can’t keep nothing.”
“Haint every door in the rancho got mor’n a dozen bolts an’ chains onto it, an’ don’t he keep three or four big dogs on the outside of the house, an’ as many more inside? An’ haint he sot up night after night with his pistols in his hands watchin’ fur the thieves? It don’t do no ’arthly good whatsomever. Things is missin’ all the while, an’ nobody don’t know whar they go to. You see,” added Tom, sinking his voice almost to a whisper, “thar’s some folks besides the ole man livin’ in that ar rancho, an’ they don’t need doors an’ winders. They can go through a keyhole, or a crack an inch wide, and even a solid stone wall can’t stop ’em. I slept thar one night, an’ if I didn’t see——”
“Hold your grip, Tom,” interrupted Sanders, hastily. “Somehow I don’t like to hear that thing spoke of. That rancho is a bad place to stop at, that’s a fact; an’ I’d as soon fight a fair stand-up battle with the biggest grizzly in the mountains as to spend an hour thar arter sundown. I wouldn’t be half so bad skeered.”
After saying this Sanders relapsed into silence again, and so did Tom; and Julian, who had heard just enough to excite his curiosity, tried in vain to induce them to continue the conversation. He wanted to learn something about Reginald Mortimer, and know what the trappers had seen in his house that frightened them so badly; but they paid no heed to his questions, and Julian was finally obliged to give it up in despair.
