“I thought so from the first,” said Don to himself. “I knew those vagabonds would raise some kind of a row before they left.” Then aloud, he added: “How do you know that they were in the shooting-box when I went there this morning?”
“Kase I was thar—me an’ Lester Brigham.”
“Lester Brigham!” repeated Don.
“Yes. Me an’ him goes huntin’ a’most every day.”
Don was profoundly astonished. He told himself that Lester must be getting very low down in the world if he were willing to make a daily companion of so worthless a fellow as Dan Evans.
“Well, this thing was all cut and dried, wasn’t it?” said he. “You planned the robbery, and Barlow and his two friends did the work. Was that the way of it?”
“I didn’t plan nothin’,” protested Dan. “Don’t hold me so tight, Mr. Don, an’ I’ll tell ye what’s the gospel truth. Lester, he told me that Dave was bringin’ in right smart of money for his pap every month, an’ I told Barlow of it, an’ Barlow he said he’d like to have some of it so’t he could live like rich folks do. That’s all I done, Mr. Don, sure’s yer born—honor bright, an’ hope to die if it aint.”
“You didn’t say anything to Barlow about going halvers with you?”
“Nary word, Mr. Don. Nary[Nary] blessed word.”
Don didn’t believe this, for Dan was almost too earnest in his denial. But he had obtained a clue, and that was what he wanted.