“That’s a pretty hard question to answer,” he said finally. “I do know that he came from somewhere up here.”
“But would he have any way of knowing that we were after him?”
“That’s what I don’t know. You see, he must know more or less people around here, and it’s possible that some one may have put him wise.”
“Well, it must be one of three things,” Bob declared after a moment’s thought. “It’s either he or some of those whiskey runners who think we are after them, or—”
“Or what?” Jack asked as he paused.
“Or a real lalapaloosla,” he said with a grin.
“Oh, rats,” Jack laughed.
“Mebby,” Bob replied.
“Mebby what?”
“What you said.”