"Well, as far as McFann's concerned I know Redmond's barkin' up the wrong tree."
"How do you know it?"
Talpers made a deprecating motion.
"Of course I don't know it absolutely. It's jest what I feel, from bein' as well acquainted with Jim as I am."
"Yes, you and Jim are tolerably close to each other—everybody knows that."
Talpers shot a suspicious glance at the agent, and then he reassumed his mysterious grin.
"Where you goin' now?" he asked.
"Just up on the hill."
"I've been back there a couple of times," sneered Bill, "but I couldn't find no notes dropped by the murderer."
"Well, there's just one thing that's plain enough now, Talpers," said Lowell grimly, as he released his brakes. "While Jim McFann is in jail a lot of Indians are going to be thirsty, and your receipts for whiskey are not going to be so big."