Prescott drove away, and the corporal was smoking near the stove when Stanton came in.
“You look as if you’d been studying the Jernyngham case,” he said. “I’ll allow it’s enough to get on your nerves.”
“Prescott’s been here,” replied Curtis. “He’s heard those blamed clothes were found, and that’s going to make us trouble. We’ve had Jernyngham interfering and mussing up the tracks, and now Prescott’s getting ready to butt in. I expect he’ll be off to Navarino very soon, and we can’t stop him unless we arrest him, which I’m not ready to do.”
“Did he tell you he was going?”
“It wasn’t needed; I’ve been figuring out the thing.”
“Well,” remarked Stanton with a thoughtful air, “he wouldn’t let that land agent see him if he’d been guilty.”
Curtis reserved his opinion.
“You’re getting smart,” he said with a grin. “Still, you don’t want to hustle.”
“Hustle?” Stanton rejoined scornfully. “Jernyngham was killed last summer and we haven’t corralled anybody yet!”
“That’s so,” Curtis assented tranquilly, “I’ve heard of the boys getting the right man nearly two years afterward.”