"Why come to we-all?" says Mutiny,--"ain't the gang handy at rescues?"
"My wolves would jump at the chance; I choked them off."
"Bekase"--the Captain turned his haunted eyes on me--"I don't want them po' youngsters mixed in with thieves."
"You wanted me mixed again," says Mutiny through his teeth.
"Sonny"--the outlaw laid his hand on Mutiny's shoulder--"you been a bad aig same as me, and we'd be hard to spoil. But these aigs at La Morita is new-laid, fresh aigs, so I wan' them to keep."
"Mutiny, I sent you away for yo' good, 'ecause that girl may pull you up if anything can on airth. As for me, wall, I don't know as I care what becomes of me. I tried to turn good one't--tried mortal hard to run straight. I envy every honest man I see. I'm like a crawling snake, ambitious for bird wings to fly with; but still I'm no more than snake."
"The kids have a chance all right," says Mutiny.
"They have. A year ago I couldn't have drove my Curly away from the gang, but now he's paired with that du Chesnay youngster. Them colts won't care for the herd if they can run together, so I've got Curly weaned from following me to--to damnation."
"Mutiny," says I, "will you help me to gather in these boys?"
"I shorely will," says Mutiny; "but hadn't we ought to wait until they're moved up this way for trial?"
"Wall," says the outlaw, "if I kin get to fight with a small man, I don't yearn for anything larger. Whirl in on La Morita, and you're fighting Mexico; wait for a move, and you're up against the hull United States. I'd rather have a lick at lil' ole Mexico."
I told him that I had a town full of cowboys hard to hold.
"That kind won't keep," says Mutiny; "what's yo' plan?"
"I aimed," says I, "to steal young Ryan, and throw him into La Morita by way of consolation for them poor Frontier Guards when they miss their plunder."
"Now don't you touch my meat," says Captain McCalmont; "I have to feed my little small lambs on him. Now, Misteh Davies."
"Answers to the name of Chalkeye mostly."
"Wall, Chalkeye, this is the second time we meet," he bored into me with his eyes; "I understand that Balshannon's will makes you some sort of guardian of his colt."
"Mutiny," says he, "you witness that I, Captain McCalmont, thief, and general manager of the Robbers' Roost gang of outlaws, appoints this Chalkeye Davies guardian of Curly."