“That’s plenty, ma’am; thank ye kindly. We won’t trouble ye any more.”
Canby looked into the eyes of the wizen-faced sheriff after Mrs. Ehrhart had returned to her arduous duties.
“That’s Blacky Silk,” said Glenn. “Ye see, knowin’ we’re after this feller o’ yer girl’s—er—this feller, I mean—he’s doin’ all he can to help us arrest ’im, to throw suspicion offen ’imself and The Kid. But how in thunder does he know them two are comin’ out to-day?”
“Guess I ain’t gettin’ head ner tail of none of it,” complained the cattleman.
The sheriff consulted his watch. “It’s fifteen minutes after noon now,” he said. “If the boys are through eatin’ maybe ye’d better snatch a bite and get out with ’em, to meet your girl an’ this feller if they do show up. You’ll want to see ’em, o’ course, even though the boy ain’t guilty o’ the holdup. Can’t tell ye where’bouts to look, ’cept that whoever telephoned said they’d be comin’ outa the mountains and makin’ for Squawtooth. That was Blacky. What’s the big idea I don’t savvy—or how he knows they’re comin’. But I got nothin’ to do with them. I’ll get the dep’ties, and we’ll go for Mr. Blacky and The Kid. Them’s the hombres I want, ’cause Frisco wired me, just before I come out here, that the measurements I sent ’em are the same as Blacky’s. That’s why I left that Moses-an’-Aaron boy in jail at Opaco, so long’s he didn’t seem to mind. That would make this other pair feel safe, ye see, and they wouldn’t be thinkin’ o’ makin’ their get-away. I’ll find ’em at Stlingbloke, I guess. Can I get a hoss?”
The two men arose and were about to part when Ed Chazzy, in chaps and spurs, came around the house and stepped on the veranda.
“What was the signal for Squawtooth?” he asked.
“What signal?” Squawtooth shot back.
“Why, a red blanket—looked like she was—was wavin’ from the big cottonwood in the corral as I was ridin’ across from the mountains.”
“I don’t know anything about any signal. What ye talkin’ about? How long ago?”