“What’s the name of that fellow?”
“Ward Porton.”
“Does he live around here?”
“I don’t know where he is living just at present. But I saw him day before yesterday in Clayton. I tried to stop him, but he ran away from me.”
The storekeeper gazed at Dave for a moment in silence, and then pursed up his lips and shook his head decidedly.
“That is too much of a fish story for me to swallow,” he said harshly. “You’ll either have to bring that young man here and prove that he got the goods, or else you’ll have to pay for them yourself.”