him out of the way for a certain length of time for some purpose. What, then, was the self interest? Boyd had certain definite interests in Arguello County and he ran them over mentally to determine possible points of contact. The real estate transactions were dead and buried; the water rights and works were entirely out of their ken:—it was undoubtedly the matter of the Peyton ranch. The notes were to be handed over in four days
This lead opened many possibilities—too many to canvass. They might think that by keeping him beyond the appointed time, the deal would fall through; they might have some arrangement to take it over themselves when Boyd failed to complete the transaction; they might hope to force him by threat to some course of action—— Boyd was too tired after his all-night drive to think the thing out to its conclusion. But he felt he was on the right track. Therefore he drew up to the breakfast with a more cheerful countenance. He resented being made the victim of a silly joke. But this!—here was a fight worthy of him. Intimidation? He'd show them that a man who had faced the wolf pack had no fear of them! A more subtle scheme? He had used his wit before. What could these inexperienced back country ranchmen concoct that would be proof against his experience! He eyed Big Bill and Shot with sardonic amusement. Thick-headed watchdogs, these. No use wasting time on them. He had heard Corbell tell them to expect him that evening. There was his real antagonist.
"Well, gentlemen," he remarked, as he drew up his chair. "I assure you I do not know what this is all about, unless you will enlighten me."
"Better wait for Bert—Corbell," mumbled Bill.
"I thought so. But perhaps you can tell me what are my privileges. I am a prisoner?"
"Do anything you please," answered Sheridan. "We'll show you a room, and I'll get you some plunder to make you comfortable. There's plenty of smokes and drinks. You probably want some sleep. You're welcome to move around all you want."
"Around, but not away," suggested Boyd.
