"Sit down!" thundered Waring. "Who sent you with a note to Pat last
Wednesday?"
"Who said anybody sent me?"
"Don't waste time! I say so. That broken shoe your cayuse cast says so, for I trailed him from my ranch to the line fence. And you have said so yourself. This paper is not from the sheriff's office. It's a tax receipt."
The cowboy's face went white.
"Honest, so help me, Mr. Waring, I didn't know the Brewster boys was after Pat. Bob he give me the paper. Said it was from the sheriff, and I was to give it to Pat if you weren't around."
"And if I happened to be around?"
"I was to wait until you was out with the fence gang—"
"How did you know I would be out with them?"
"Bob Brewster told me you would be."
Waring folded the piece of paper and tore it across.