"Rest of your crowd wise to it, too?" Pence asked.
"Guess not. They think I had a hunch. Call me a wizard." Kingdon chuckled. "I'm not spilling anything to them about it—yet."
"Why not?" Horace's eyes were flashing.
"Because I am not sure who did it—who cut the sapling, dug the hole under the bowlder, and set the other stone there for a fulcrum," Kingdon told him calmly.
"But you believe it was Joe and Kirby?"
"One of them—or both."
"Not both."
"You ought to know about that better than I," Kingdon returned significantly.
"I can't be sure about that Indian," Horace admitted.
"Who ever can be sure about one of those fellows? I have a faint suspicion he's got it in for me. I punched him hard that first night."