“Me? Whadya want o’ me?”
“Why, you want to go down to represent for yourself. You know that odd bit of land, grown up to brush, that you bought of Miguel Silva?”
“Took it on a bad debt. What of it?”
“Why, there’s an old tumbledown shack on it, and they’ve been using that as a store house, tha’sall. By their tell they got eighteen assorted saddles hid there.”
“Well, I’m damned!” said Adam, turning back. “That’s a blame fine howdy-do, ain’t it? How long have they been at this lay?”
“Four or five months. More’n that south of here. But they just lately been extendin’ and branchin’ out.”
“Making new commercial connections, so to speak. Any of the Garfield gente implicated?”
“One. Albino Villa Neuva.”
Adam nodded. “Always thought he was a bad hombre, Albino.”
“They’re going to come clean, these two,” said Caney cheerfully. “We told ’em if they’d turn state’s evidence they’d probable get off light. Reckon we’re going to round up the whole gang. Say, I thought you’d hiked on to Garfield. I started back to your little old mine, cut into your sign, and was followin’ you up.”