“‘Where’s the boss of this ranch?’ the captain of the gang asks me.
“‘Wait just a minute, cap’n,’ says I. ‘Wasn’t there a kind of a reward offered for the capture of this desperate character you have referred to in your preamble?’
“‘There’s a thousand dollars reward offered,’ says the captain, ‘but it’s for his capture and conviction. There don’t seem to be no provision made for an informer.’
“‘It looks like it might rain in a day or so,’ says I, in a tired way, looking up at the cerulean blue sky.
“‘If you know anything about the locality, disposition, or secretivenesss of this here Black Bill,’ says he, in a severe dialect, ‘you are amiable to the law in not reporting it.’
“‘I heard a fence-rider say,’ says I, in a desultory kind of voice, ‘that a Mexican told a cowboy named Jake over at Pidgin’s store on the Nueces that he heard that Black Bill had been seen in Matamoras by a sheepman’s cousin two weeks ago.’
“‘Tell you what I’ll do, Tight Mouth,’ says the captain, after looking me over for bargains. ‘If you put us on so we can scoop Black Bill, I’ll pay you a hundred dollars out of my own—out
