Simeral said nothing, but his heavy eyes closed as he nodded again.
"Laramie's gone home. He thinks Van Horn is in jail. The story is," continued Tenison, "that Van Horn and old Barb quarreled, that they came to blows and that Barb turned Stone and him over to Druel again to lock up." Tenison spoke slowly and impressively: "Tell Laramie," he said, "I copper all that stuff—every bit of it. Tell him to look out. I don't know what them fellows have got in their heads; but it's something. Van Horn won't be in jail long."
"He's out again now."
Tenison eyed his messenger steadily: "What do you mean?"
"I just come from Hinchcliffe's saloon. They've been out an hour."
Hard as the blow struck home, Tenison did not bat a lash: "We may be too late," he said. "It's worth trying. Warn Jim if you can."
"I can."
"There'll be a good horse for you at Kitchen's. Ask McAlpin for it. Tell him I couldn't get hold of a man any quicker. Will Jim sleep at your place tonight?"
Simeral shook his head: "No tellin'."
Tenison rose. Drawing from a trousers pocket a roll of bills, he slipped off several and passed them to Simeral.