"I sure did. But supposin' I say I ain't got nothin' against him, and the folks over there won't appear against him, how could you prove anything?"
"He's under suspicion. You said yourself he was holding up them tourists."
"But you can't make me swear that in court."
Buck Hardy glared at the younger man. "See here, Lorry, I don't understand your game. Suppose the man ain't guilty. He was locked up—and by me, representing this county. You can't prove that the Starr boys would have done anything to him. And you can't monkey with the law to suit yourself as long as I'm sheriff. Am I right?" And Hardy turned to Waring.
"You're right, Hardy."
Lorry's gray eyes shone with a peculiar light. "What you goin' to do about it, Buck?"
"Two of my boys are out looking for the man. You're under arrest till he is brought in."
"You aim to lock me in that calaboose?"
"No. But, understand, you're under arrest. You can't leave town."
"Say, now, Buck, ain't you kind of crowdin' me into the fence?"