He saw Rathburn yawning, as the boot dropped on the floor.
Rathburn looked at the sheriff sleepily as the official strode into the aisle and peered in between the bars. He tipped the bootless foot back on its toes as he lifted his other foot and tugged at the boot.
“That you, sheriff?” he asked with another yawn. “The lights are so bad I can’t see good. Guess I’m a little groggy anyway. I was too danged tired when I went to sleep to take off my boots.”
“You’ve got another ten hours to sleep,” said Neal with a scowl. “An’ you’ll have plenty of time to get rid of your saddle soreness. You’ll ride in automobiles and trains for a while an’ keep in out of the hot sun an’ the wet.”
The sheriff laughed harshly at his own words.
Rathburn let the other boot drop. “I expect I’ll get something to eat now an’ then, too?”
“Feel hungry?” asked Neal.
“Might chaw on a biscuit before I take another nap,” yawned the prisoner.
“I’ll see if I can scare you up a bite,” said the sheriff, leaving.
Rathburn heard him say something to some one in front. Then the sheriff went out of the building. The other man came in and looked at Rathburn curiously.