"All you say is true, if Sinclair saddles himself with the tenderfoot.
Might as well tie so much lead around his neck."
"He'll do it, though," said Arizona carelessly. "I know him."
It caused a new focusing of attention upon him, and this time Arizona seemed to regret that he stood in the limelight.
"You know him?" asked Joe Stockton softly.
The bright black eyes of the fat man glittered and flickered from face to face. He seemed to be gauging them and deciding how much he could say—or how little.
"Sure, I drifted up to this country one season and rode there. I heard a pile about this Sinclair and seen him a couple of times."
"How good a man d'you figure him to be with a gun?" asked the sheriff without apparent interest.
"Good enough," sighed Arizona. "Good enough, partner!"
Presently the sheriff showed that he was a man capable of taking good advice, even though he could not stamp it as his own original device.
"Boys," he said, "I figure that what Arizona has said is tolerable sound. Arizona, what d'you advise next?"