Produced by Chris Curnow, Michael, Graeme Mackreth and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net [Illustration: Tom pushed on ahead to reconnoiter the Upper Spring [_Page 262_]] "Bring Me His Ears" By CLARENCE E. MULFORD AUTHOR OF "Bar 20," "Bar 20 Days," "Bar 20-Three," "Buck Peters, Ranchman," "The Coming of Cassidy," "Hopalong Cassidy," "Johnny Nelson," "The Man from Bar 20," "Tex," etc. A.L. BURT COMPANY Publishers New York Published by arrangement with A.C. McClurg & Co. Printed in U.S.A. Copyright A.C. McClurg & Co. 1922 Published October, 1922 _Copyrighted in Great Britain_ _Printed in the United States of America_ "Bring Me His Ears" CHAPTER I HAWKENS' GUN STORE The tall, lanky Missourian leaning against the corner of a ramshackle saloon on Locust Street, St. Louis, Missouri--the St. Louis of the early forties--turned his whiskey-marked face toward his companion, a short and slender Mexican trader, sullenly listening to the latter's torrent of words, which was accompanied by many and excitable gesticulations. The Missourian shook his head in reply to the accusations of his companion. "But he was on thee boat weeth us!" exclaimed the other. "An' you lose heem--lak theese!" the sharp snap of his fingers denoted magic. "Thar ain't no use o' gittin' riled," replied Schoolcraft. "How in tarnation kin a man keep th' trail o' a slippery critter like him in these yere crowds? I'll git sight o' him, right yere." "That ees w'at you say," rejoined the Mexican, shrugging his shoulders. "But w'at weel _I_ say to _le Gobernador_? Theese _hombre_ Tomaz Boyd--he know vera many t'eengs--too vera many t'eengs--an' he ensult _le Gobernador_. _Madre de Dios_--sooch ensult!" He shivered at the thought. "W'en I get thee message, I tr-remble! It say 'Br-ring heem to me--or breeng me his ears!' I am tol' to go to Senor Schoolcr-raft at Eendependence--he ees thee man. I go; an' then you lose heem! Bah! You do not know theese Manuel Armijo, _le Gobernador de Santa Fe_, my fren'--I tr-remble!" "You need a good swig, that's what _you_ need," growled Schoolcraft. "An' if ye warn't a chuckle-head," he said with a flash of anger, "we wouldn't 'a' come yere at all; I told ye he's got th' prairie fever an' shore would come back to Independence, whar I got friends; but no--we had ter foller him!" He spat emphatically. "Thar warn't no sense to it, nohow!" The other waved his arms. "But w'y we stan' here, lak theese? W'y you do no'teeng?"