“Nothing doing here,” he shouted as soon as Scott was within shouting distance. “Any news over your way?”
“Is there?” Scott exclaimed, “there’s nothing but news and I need some more help from you.”
“Good, I hope you have a more lively job for me this time. Things have been pretty dull here, even for a Sunday afternoon.”
Scott had been so intent on his problem that he had forgotten it was Sunday. He had even forgotten that he had not had any lunch.
“It may not be any more lively, but I think maybe it will be more interesting,” he explained. Then he proceeded to tell Baxter how he had found the sheep, and how he had watched them build the fence. Baxter listened eagerly and in silence for fear he would interrupt the story, till Scott came to the discovery of Heth’s real name.
“Dugan!” Baxter exclaimed excitedly. “Did you say he was a thin, wiry fellow, medium height, dark hair, and a rather sharp face?”
“That’s the man,” Scott said, “Do you know him?”
“Know him,” Baxter exclaimed excitedly, “I know him like a book. I thought that I knew all the sheep men in this country and I know him. Why man, he used to be Williams’ foreman over on the Onama when they had all that trouble over there. He’s a gun man and a crook from the word go.”
“He’s a crook, all right,” Scott said, “whatever else he is. And what’s more I believe that Dawson is in with him.”
“Oh, he can’t be,” Baxter remonstrated, “and yet, hold on. He knows Dugan as well as I do and he must have appointed Dugan for this job.”