“Mount and ride!” said Stimson, and when his companion galloped off turned once more to his prisoner.
“You’ll have a lantern somewhere, and I’d like a look at you,” he said. “If you’re the man I expect, I’m glad I found you.”
“It’s in the wagon,” said the other dejectedly.
Stimson got a light, and when he had released and picketed the plunging horse, held it so that he could see his prisoner. Then he nodded with evident contentment.
“You may as well sit down. We’ve got to have a talk,” he said.
“Well,” said the other, “I’d help you to catch Harmon if I could, but I can prove he hired me to drive him over to Kemp’s in the wagon, and you’d find it difficult to show I knew what there was in the packages he took along.”
Stimson smiled dryly. “Still,” he said, “I think it could be done, and I’ve another count against you. You had one or two deals with the boys some little while ago.”
“I’m not afraid of your fixing up against me anything I did then,” said the other man.
“No?” said Stimson. “Now, I guess you’re wrong, and it might be a good deal more serious than whisky-running. One night a man crawled up to your homestead through the snow, and you took him in.”
He saw the sudden fear in his companion’s face before he turned it from the lantern.