“No, I’ve got my eye full looking after two thousand sheep. That’s up to Sullivan, he’s responsible for Reid.”
The sheriff turned a sharp look of suspicion on Mackenzie, but said nothing. He led his horse down to the little stream for water, and came leading it back, a cast of disfavor in his face.
“You’re a bad bunch up in here,” he said, “you and Carlson and Hall. If there’s any more killin’ and 172 fightin’ up this way I’ll come in and clean you all out. Where did you say that feller was at?”
Mackenzie told him again, and he rode off to take a look at Reid, and put what caution into his ear he had a mind to give. Mackenzie saw him blend into the gloom of early morning with a feeling of self-felicitation on his act of yesterday. He was inspired yesterday when he took Joan under his protection and laid claim to her in his own right.
CHAPTER XVI
REID BEGINS HIS PLAY
Dad Frazer came back after five days, diminished in facial outline on account of having submitted his stubble beard to the barber at Four Corners. In reverse of all speculation on Mackenzie’s part, this operation did not improve the old man’s appearance. Dad’s face was one of the kind that are built to carry a beard; without it his weaknesses were too apparent to the appraising eye.
Dad made glowing report of his success with the widow at Four Corners. Preliminaries were smoothed; he had left the widow wearing his ring.