Wild Bill had been forgetting that he was to be hired by Lige Benner. But this would give him an opportunity to get away from the Circle-B outfit and strike a bee line for the Star-A ranch. He got up and passed out into the living room. CHAPTER XIV. THE HUNCHBACK’S QUICK WIT. Red Steve had been summoned from his post and into the living room. He was there to meet Wild Bill when he entered. Lige Benner was also there, an exultant look on his face which proved he was well pleased with the treacherous work planned by his brother. Isaacs, of course, was already on his way back to Hackamore. “Red Steve,” said Jerry, waving a hand toward Wild Bill, “this is Gringo Pete Billings, who comes from nowhere on a horse belonging to one of Buffalo Bill’s pards. By the same token, Steve, Gringo hates Buffalo Bill, and I think he’s a good enough hater to be a valuable man for the White Caps.” Red Steve passed his keen little eyes over Wild Bill, measuring him with a stare that would have made almost any one else but the Laramie man uncomfortable and apprehensive. “How am I sizin’ up, friend?” grinned Wild Bill. “My clothes ain’t none too good, but they’re the best I got since Cody an’ pards got through with me, over in Arizony.” Wild Bill scowled and leaned against the wall. “Ye don’t look none too promisin’ as a good citizen,” growled Red Steve, “but what I want fer the White Caps ain’t good citizens, but fellers that’ll do what I tell ’em. Ye say ye’ve got it in fer this king o’ scouts?” “Want me ter sing it?” yelped Wild Bill. “Ain’t I follered Buffler Bill from Arizony jest ter git even with him? Ain’t I hyer on the Brazos jest a-campin’ on his trail?” “What’re ye wantin’ ter do ter that feller as is called the king o’ scouts?” “The wust I kin.” “Supposin’ he was staked out on the perary, an’ a thousand head o’ stampedin’ steers run over him?” Wild Bill’s blood began to boil. For a moment--just a moment--it seemed as though he would throw off his rôle of avenger for fictitious wrongs and tell Red Steve, Lige and Jerry just what he thought of their murderous, cold-blooded schemes. But he got a grip on himself at the right instant, and went on with the part he was playing. “Kin ye do it, Red Steve?” he demanded. “Tork’s cheap, but it takes somethin’ besides tork ter git Buffler Bill in a fix like that.” “Nigh ter Crowder’s ole c’ral, clost ter the Brazos, thar’s a thousand head o’ Circle-B cattle rounded up. The White Caps’ll hev charge o’ them cattle, an’ the longhorns aire goin’ ter git away. The stampede’ll head over ther place whar Buffler Bill an’ Dick Perry aire staked out. Arter it’s over, an’ them stakes aire pulled, the hull play’ll look like er happenchance. The scout an’ Perry got in the way o’ ther herd; they was on foot, an’ they couldn’t save theirselves, not noways.” A savage grin crossed Red Steve’s villainous face. “What d’ye think, Gringo Pete?” he asked.