Читать книгу Buffalo Bill, Peacemaker; Or, On a Troublesome Trail онлайн

81 страница из 85

“I have just happened in for a little call,” answered the scout.

“Then happen out again. This ain’t my day for callers.”

“You seem to have a few, nevertheless.”

The scout went over towards the barons and calmly took a chair.

“Great tornadoes!” cried the man in black. “Who’s boss here, anyway, Phelps? Have you got the say about things on your own place?”

Phelps felt around himself uncertainly. He might have been groping for a revolver, but, if he was, he failed to get hold of one.

“Go ’way!” ordered Phelps, glaring. “If you haven’t got any business here, go ’way. Can’t you see it’s my busy day?”

“It’s my busy day, too,” returned the scout. “This is far from being a social call. Your name is Phelps?”

“That’s my name.”

“And yours”—the scout leveled a glance at the man in black—“is Benner?”

“Yes,” answered Benner, “if it means anything to you. But I don’t want to talk, and I don’t want any stranger butting in here. Phelps owns this place, and he’s ordered you out. Make yourself scarce.”

“If you don’t make yourself scarce,” declared Benner, “I’ll yell for some of my cowboys. They’ll handle you rough, but if you don’t go on my order you’ll bring it on yourself.”