"High Chin! The hell you say!"
"That's what I thought when I heard it. High was beating up the hobo, and Lorry claimed him as his prisoner. Jim Waring says the kid walloped High on the head and knocked him stiff."
"Whew! Bob will get his hide for that."
"I don't know. Jim Waring is riding the country just now."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"More than I'm going to tell you, Bill. But take it from me, he's interested in young Adams a whole lot."
* * * * *
When Hardy and his deputy rode over to the hotel there was a pause in the chatter. Alice Weston was describing their journey to her mother and calling upon Waring to substantiate her vivid assertions of the wonderful adventure. The saddle-horse still stood at the hitching-rail, and Hardy, who had an eye for a good horse, openly admired the big buckskin. Waring was talking with Lorry. Mrs. Adams had gone in. Hardy indicated that he wanted to speak to Lorry, and he included Waring in his gesture. Lorry rose and glanced quickly at Alice Weston. She was leaning forward in her chair, suddenly aware of a subtle undercurrent of seriousness. The undersheriff was patting the nose of the big buckskin.
The men stepped down from the veranda, and stood near the horses.
"That hobo got away," said the sheriff. "Do you know anything about it?"