“Come along. You had better not try to break away.”
They went back to the homestead where they found Jepson waiting for them. He looked disturbed.
“I told you he wasn’t here,” he said. “How was I to know he was hiding in the ravine?”
Curtis gave him a searching glance.
“We’ll consider that later. I want your team and wagon, some blankets, and driving-robes.”
“Am I bound to outfit the police?”
“I guess you had better. Your record’s none too good.”
He led his prisoner into the kitchen, where the stove was burning, and, laying his carbine on the table, he loosed the handcuffs and bade the man take off his long coat.
“Go through his pockets, Stanton,” he said.
The trooper did as he was told, but nothing of any importance was produced. The man was not armed, and there were only a few silver coins and bills for small amounts in his possession. Curtis stood wearily, regarding him with a thoughtful smile.