Bojarquez spread out his hands. “But bareback? Where ees your saddle? And the Twilight horse? The bridle, he ees broke. Scarb’ro’s in Chihuahua by now.”
“Dinner’s on me,” said Johnny.
Charlie See drew Johnny aside and spoke to him in confidence.
“How does it happen you know so pat just when a letter gets to Hillsboro when it is posted in Garfield?”
“A letter? Oh—Hobby Lull, he told me.”
“Yes, yes. And what was the big idea for keeping still about that letter while they wove a rope to your neck?”
“Why, my dear man,” said Johnny, “I can’t read through a sealed envelope.”
Charlie sniffed. “You saw a good many things mighty clear, I notice, but you overlooked the one big bet—like fun you did! Caney and Weir and Hales—don’t you suppose they knew that letter was on the way? And that it was never to reach the recorder?”
“Since you are so very shrewd,” said Johnny, “I sometimes wonder that you are not shrewder still.”