“No. But they said one of the axles had het up on account of not being greased and the wheel was bound on it. They couldn’t budge it without a blacksmith to take it off—sort of fused on, I reckon. There was only two of them, though.”
“They probably left Jack Pender in the wagon as a guard over Bill,” decided Jerry. “It was Haven and Nixon who came here.”
The others agreed with this theory.
“Did you hire them any horses?” asked Tinny.
“Yes. But I didn’t buy the wagon. I said I wasn’t in the habit of buying pigs in a poke, though I might have taken it if they’d run it in here. But they left it about a mile out and walked in, they said. They wanted four horses, but they didn’t have cash enough to hire but two.
“So they took them, and said they’d be back for two more. And they did, later that night. The first two—the one with the squint and the bossy chap——”
“He was Noddy Nixon,” murmured Jerry.
“Yes? Well, maybe that was his name, but I didn’t hear it,” said Mr. Stout. “Anyhow, them two came back on the horses I had hired out to them and hired two more, which they led away. They gave me a paper agreeing that I might keep the wagon if they didn’t come back with the horses.”
“But four horses are worth more than an old wagon with one wheel fused to the axle, Jake,” said Tinny, with a grim laugh, for he knew Mr. Stout. “You’re stuck, old man!”
“Oh, no,” replied the other calmly. “I made ’em leave a deposit for more than the four horses were worth.”