“I think ye’re some hard ter beat if ye kin pull off a game like that. How’re ye figgerin’ ter do it?” Wild Bill’s “pay streak” was developing undreamed-of possibilities. Used though he was to the merciless tactics of the frontier, his blood was running cold at these desperate schemes, so calmly broached. To Lige Benner and his inner circle of helpers, a man’s good name or even his life weighed little against an overmastering desire for vengeance. “Come with me, Gringo Pete,” said Red Steve. “I’ll take ye down where ye can tork with the rest o’ the White Caps. The’s six o’ us now, all told, countin’ you an’ me. This way!” Steve exchanged a reassuring look with Lige Benner, then led Wild Bill out of the house and down toward the grove where the Laramie man’s horse had been taken. “Jerry, you scheming imp,” cried Lige Benner, whirling on his brother, “what’s all this you’ve been up to?” The hunchback was devoid of feeling. His crippled body matched his crippled nature, making him abnormal, fiendish in his schemes and fiendish in having them carried out. His murderous disposition had turned a fresh page--a page which even his brother Lige had never suspected before. “I’m planning for you, Lige,” cackled Jerry, “what you’ve never had the nerve to plan for yourself--much less to attempt to execute.” “Be hanged to you! You’re going too far with your staking and your stampeding! Look out, or you’ll bring the whole cattle country down on me--say nothing of Buffalo Bill’s pards.” “How’ll they come down on you, Lige?” purred the hunchback. “I’ve done all this White Cap planning, haven’t I? This is the first you’ve heard of it, Lige, ain’t it?” “I’m mixed up in it, just the same, you foxy, cold-blooded whelp. Tell me what you’ve done.” “I had Steve organize a gang of White Caps, Lige,” explained Jerry. “There are six in the gang now, and that’s a-plenty, I reckon. They wear white caps to disguise themselves. When this trouble happens to Dunbar, word will be sent to the ranch. Perry will go to Hackamore to help Dunbar, and Buffalo Bill, of course, will go with him. Both will be caught by the White Caps and staked out. Then the steers will be stampeded----” Lige Benner was walking the floor again. He had not the nerve to let his brother’s diabolical plot be carried out. “I’ll not stand for it, Jerry!” he cried. “Working that trick with Dunbar is clever, and all right; but this other thing I won’t stand for. It would never succeed.” Jerry ruffled up his humped back and spit at Lige like an angry cat. “I’ve started out to do the job, Lige,” he screeched, “and I’ll do it!” “You’ll not stake Cody out and run a herd of stampeded steers over him,” declared Lige Benner, tossing his hands, “and that’s flat. I’ll get my revenge on Cody some other way.” Jerry’s anger died down suddenly, but a treacherous sparkle smoldered in his eyes.