“Rheumatism ain’t no fun.” Thus the proprietor. “I sure had it ache hell out of me a few years ago.”
“Didja go to a hot spring?” asked Sleepy.
“Shore did. I went up into Hawk Hole and b’iled out up there. That sulphur water smells like all the bad aigs of the world had been busted; but it knocked my rheumatism.”
“Where’s this here Hawk Hole?” asked Hashknife, interested.
“South of here, about thirty mile. I dunno whether yuh can use the springs now or not. Belongs to ‘Big Medicine’ Hawkworth, and he ain’t so friendly as he might be.”
“We’d take a chance on him, if Hashknife was able to ride that far,” said Sleepy.
“Yuh might go by stage. She comes through here about midnight and changes horses here. On ’count of the heat they make the drive from Caliente at night. They go to Pinnacle; but in yore case they might swing around by Hawkworth’s place and let yuh off. If they don’t, it’s only two miles from Pinnacle.”
“That sounds good t’ me,” declared Sleepy. “How does she listen to you, pardner?”
“Well, all right, Sleepy. I’d go any place to get rid of this ache that’s twistin’ my muscles. I ain’t slept for three nights and days hand-runnin’. If this Hawkworth person tries to deny me a chance to boil the pain out of my carcass, I’ll try and make him see the error of his ways.”
“He prob’ly will deny yuh,” said the proprietor. “C’mon and let’s see if supper is ready.”