The Orphan was mending his saddle girth when he saw Sneed cantering past the farthest corral. The latter’s horse bore all the signs of hard riding and he looked up inquiringly at the visitor.
“Good morning, Sneed,” he said pleasantly, arising and laying aside the saddle. “What’s up, anything?”
“Yes, and I came over to find out about it,” Sneed answered. “I hardly know how to begin–but here, I’ll tell it from the beginning,” and he related what had occurred, much to the wonder of The Orphan.
“Now,” finished the visitor, “I want to ask you a question, although I may be a d––n fool for doing it. But I want to get this thing thrashed out. Do you know who did it?”
The foreman of the A-Y straightened up, his eyes flashing, and then he realized that Sneed had some right to question him after what had occurred in the past.
“No, Sneed, I do not,” he answered, “but in two guesses I can name the man!”
“Good!” cried Sneed. “Go ahead!”
“Bucknell?”
“No, he was with me in the bunk-house,” replied the foreman of the Cross Bar-8. “It wasn’t him–go on.”
“Tex Williard,” said The Orphan with decision.