“Stop glaring at me! You are like Pete! If he had not lost his temper we would not be in this mess now. He had to go savage and kill a man instead of waiting and having him killed outside.”
With an effort the Toad recovered his composure and dropped into a chair.
“Let me tell you, brother mine, you also have seen the Wolf many times,” Anderson said.
The Toad shook his heavy head and growled a denial.
“Jim Anson is the Wolf!”
Francisco Garcia stared in unbelief. The color drained from his face.
“Dios!” he muttered. “Then it was he who was in the barn that night?”
Anderson nodded and related the events of that evening.
“He knows or suspects a lot, but he has no proof, or the sheriff would have acted. We have got to get Allen and get him quick,” Anderson added.
“How?”