Rapidly he mentioned the names of the men he wanted and where they could be found, and Stratton 260 and Jessup hastily departed. Outside they found three horses, their own, tied to the hitching-rack as they had left them, and a big, powerful black, who stood squarely facing the door, reins merely trailing and ears pricked forward. The two that had been there when they first rode up were gone.
“Just like I thought,” said Jessup, as they mounted and swung around the corner. “That guy was planted there a-purpose to get us into the eatin’-house. What’s more, I’ll bet my saddle he was the same one who came snoopin’ around Red Butte camp two weeks ago. Recollect, Gabby said he was small, with black hair an’ eyes close together?”
Buck nodded. “It’s a mighty sure thing he was there again last night and pulled our loads,” he added in a tone of chagrin. “We’re a pretty dumb pair, kid. Next time we’ll believe Gabby when he says his door was opened in the night.”
“I’ll say so. But I thought the old bird was just fussing. Never even looked at my gun. But why the devil should we have suspected anythin’? Why, Lynch don’t even know yore alive!”
“He must have found out someway,” shrugged Stratton, “though I can’t imagine how. No use shedding tears over it, though. What we’ve got to do is get Hardenberg moving double-quick. Here’s George Harley; I’ll take him, and you go on to the next one.”
Rapidly the deputies were gathered together and 261 hurried back to the eating-house to find Hardenberg holding the Mexicans without difficulty. Half an hour later these were safely lodged in the jail, and the sheriff began a rigorous examination, which lasted until late in the afternoon.
The boldness of the affair angered him and made him determined to get at the bottom of it; but this proved no easy matter. To begin with, José Maria, the proprietor of the restaurant, was missing. Either he had merely rented his place to the instigator of the plot, and was prudently absenting himself for a while, or else he was one of those who had escaped through the rear door. Most of the Mexicans were natives of Perilla, and one and all swore that they were as innocent of evil intent as unborn children. They had merely happened to be there getting a meal when the fracas started. The miscreants who had drawn knives on the two whites were quite unknown to them, and must be the ones who had escaped.
Hardenberg knew perfectly well that they were lying, but for the moment he let it pass. He had an idea that Stratton could throw some light on the situation, and leaving the prisoners to digest a few pithy truths, he took the cow-puncher into his private room to hear his story.
Though Buck tried to make this as brief as possible, it took some time, especially as the sheriff showed an absorbing interest from the start and persisted in 262 asking frequent questions and requesting fuller details. When he had finally heard everything, he leaned back in his chair, regarding Stratton thoughtfully.
“Mighty interesting dope,” he remarked, lighting a cigarette. “I’ve had my eyes on Tex Lynch for some time, but I had no idea he was up to anything like this. You’re dead sure about that oil?”