do it. I may be on hand to take part myself, but there is a possibility that I may be ordered elsewhere."
"And you are willing to pay me five hundred extra for picking out my target, Vorlange?"
"You've struck it."
"Who is the man?"
"Can I trust you?"
"Yes."
"Pawnee Brown."
At the mention of the great scout's name Tucker started back.
"Why—why do you want him knocked over?"
"He is my enemy. I have hated him from my boyhood!" cried Louis Vorlange. "And there are other reasons—he stands in the way of my pushing the scheme I mentioned."
"Pawnee Brown was here but a short while ago. He insulted and abused me," growled Tucker. "I'll put a bullet through him quick enough if I get the chance—that is, in a skirmish. I don't want to run any risk of being strung up for—you know."
"The shooting will be O. K., Tucker, and I'll help if I'm not ordered away. Do it and the five hundred extra are yours, I'll give you my word."
"What about that boy you mentioned?"
"His name is Dick Arbuckle. He is"
