Len turned to Nan, who had got to her feet.
“I suppose we might as well go home, Nan; that feller ain’t in no shape to talk business.”
Nan nodded, and they walked out together. Whispering was coming across to the buckboard, and they walked over there.
“Larry can ride with you folks,” said Len. “Larry, this is Miss Singer, the boss of the Box S, and this man is Whisperin’ Taylor, the man who makes the pies and cookies.”
“When I can git wood enough,” grinned Whispering, shaking hands with Larry.
“That’s what I’m comin’ out for—to cut wood,” said Larry.
“By golly, we’ll have plenty pie now. Pile in, Larry; the Box S Limited is ready to pull out.”
Larry shook hands gravely with Nan, and they started home, while Amos Alexander Baggs watched them from the window of his office, too mad to do more than grimace with his aching jaws and blink the tears out of his eyes.
CHAPTER XVII: MYSTERY
It was from Horace Baker, elderly clerk of the court, that Hashknife learned some of the facts about Len Ayres’s trial. Baker had been clerk of the court for ten years, being elected every two years, because no one else wanted the office. The transcript of testimony was all on file, but Hashknife did not ask to read it.