we’re clearing Black Hill to-day; but he won’t come along to the party.”
“Yes, he will,” said Mogger suddenly. “Buck’s all sorts of a fool but a funk. He’ll carry his swag in all right—an’ what are we goin’ ter do ter him?”
Lou sat back on his heels, whistling softly. Ted Douglas turned on him.
“You’ll not mess wi’ the boy on yer own, Lou,” he said.
“You’ll mind your own business, perhaps,” suggested Lou, sweetly.
“I am. Buck’s ter my charge. He’s a idjit clean through; but he’ll come up ter his whippin’ like a good sheep-pup. And it ain’t you ter give it———”
“Want to kill him yourself?” asked Lou with a delicate sneer.
“We all wants ter kill him,” explained Moody. “And we’re all goin’ ter. But not the same way as yer’d do it.”
“Perhaps not,” said Lou, lightly.
Ted Douglas thrust his hands deep in his pockets.
“If you goes hurtin’ Buck, I’ll sack you,” he said slowly.
Lou’s lip upturned from his even teeth; but no man saw his eyes. He stooped to the fire again.
“It sounds so well to write a big cheque, doesn’t it? But it’s better to remember that it
