They went back and finished their game of pool, but Sleepy’s mind was not on his shots. The attempt to murder Baggs made Sleepy nervous. As soon as they finished their game, Sleepy left Breezy, who was interested in a poker game, and went over to the hotel, never dreaming that Hashknife might be there.
He found his tall partner slumped down in an old rocker, reading a paper by the light of an oil lamp. The room was foggy with cigarette smoke, which eddied in the gust of wind from the open door. Sleepy noticed that the shade had been drawn over their one window.
“I’ve been huntin’ all over town for you,” he told Hashknife. “Didn’t yuh hear that shot?”
“Yeah, I heard it.”
“Yuh did? And you stayed here? Whatsa matter, cowboy?”
“Wasn’t anybody killed, was there?”
“Somebody dang near killed Amos Baggs, the lawyer.”
“No!”
“They shore did.”
Sleepy described how the bullet came through the sheriff’s window and within an inch or so of killing Baggs. Hashknife grinned through the recital. It was amusing to him.