"Smoother'n h—l, as th' old lady said when she slipped on th' ice. What'll yours be?"
"Cigar apiece," said the Doc; "for you an' me," he amended.
Two-Spot turned back and resumed his sweeping.
"Dave, I was kidnapped last night," said the Doc, bluntly. Waiting for Dave to get his expression part way back to normal, he told the story. Dave's expression was under control again and bespoke surprise and sympathy, gradually assuming a stern, uncompromising aspect at the thought of such a grave breach of law and order. Two-Spot, after the first shock, did not dare to look around, for his grin was unholy and altogether too sincere for his health, should the victim of the unheard of atrocity see it. Swish! Swish! went the broom; he! he! went his throat, low and in time with the sweeping. Doc finished and hammered the bar with his fist. "It's a d—d outrage!" he declared, with heat.
Dave nodded emphatically. "It shore is! Do you know who did it?"
"No; if I did I'd be on his trail."
"See anythin' that might identify th' coyote?"
"Perhaps; I'll know more about it before the day is over," answered the Doc. "Big Tom has some of his men out now looking for tracks on the Double X. Those fellows don't like me very much."
"Blast their eyes!" commented Two-Spot, sweeping with renewed vigor.