Hashknife wrote:
“Did you pick up two people at Lobo Wells last night who had lost tickets and paid cash. Wire at once.—Ben Dillon, Sheriff.”
The agent squinted at it curiously.
“It’s all right,” he smiled, “but you’re not the sheriff.”
“That’s all right; he’ll get the answer, pardner.”
“Sure—that’s right. I’ll catch Tony right away.”
And the agent was as good as his word. Within an hour he was at the sheriff’s office with a telegram, explaining to Ben Dillon that it was an answer to the one a tall cowboy had sent.
“What tall cowboy?” asked the sheriff.
“I don’t know what his name is. He signed your name to the one he sent.”
The sheriff opened it and read this message: