Rick stared at his dark-haired pal without really seeing him. He struggled to put into words the vague thoughts in the back of his mind.
"Well, he acted worried about Ruiz, but I don't really think he was. It was kind of overdone, you know? His face didn't match his words."
Scotty shook his head. "You're on thin ice, boy. People don't react to accidents in a standard way. It might have been overdone, but it might not, too. What else?"
"He didn't want us to go along as helpers after Ruiz was hurt. I know that doesn't mean much, and he said he was just afraid of another accident, but wouldn't you think he'd like some company? Besides, two accidents like that just don't happen. Then, when we suggested changing stations so he could have more time to work on other things, he yelled pretty fast."
"Because we don't know his terrain," Scotty pointed out. "At least that's what he said."
"Sure. But what's to know about the terrain? All we'd have to do would be to follow his jeep tracks, and shoot where the ground is already torn up from his earlier shots. If it's safe for him to carry caps and dynamite, it's safe for us."
Scotty scratched his chin thoughtfully. "I see what you mean. But the evidence isn't very conclusive, is it?"
"No," Rick admitted. "Only where's he going now? If he planned to go to town, he'd invite anyone who wanted to go, wouldn't he? That's what most people would do."
Scotty chuckled. "One thing I like about you. When you get a notion in that noggin, it doesn't come out easily. Next you'll be suggesting that he slugged Williams and stole the dynamite."
"He could have," Rick pointed out. "Apparently he was alone in his room both times. At least no one said he was with them."