"So you've finished up all your business, have you, Jack?" he asked.
"Yes; I'm ready to pull my freight as soon as I can put the saddle on my horse."
"Well," commented Ross, with a little twinkle of his eye, "it seems to me you got through pretty quick."
"So, so," drawled Mason. "It didn't take me long after I once got at it."
"Well," said Ross, "I don't want to quarrel with you, Jack Mason; but you look to me like the biggest fool that I've seen since I come into Wyoming Territory."
Mason laughed heartily.
"Come on, come on, Ross," he said. "What's your riddle? What do you mean?"
"Why," Ross answered, "I believe you didn't come into this town for a single thing except to find Claib Wood and break him all up, when the chances were all in his favor that he'd kill you before you could bat an eye."
"Oh, come, Ross," said Mason; "you're doing a lot of guessing. Didn't I tell you when I first came into town that I didn't know that Claib Wood was here?"
"Yes, you did say that, but I'll bet you a new suit of clothes that if you didn't know he was here, you felt mighty sure that he was; and that if you hadn't felt sure you wouldn't have come to town."