“It’s shore too bad, but it can’t be helped. The K-10 will declare war as sure as hell. Not that we care a whoop what they do, except that it’ll mean a killin’.”
Ike turned to Sleepy.
“That Sam Blair is the puncher I was tellin’ yuh about, from Oregon, or up thataway. Funny, ain’t it? Talkin’ about him today, and got him on our hands tonight—dead.”
Big Medicine came in and sat down. His face was very grave, as he rested his big hands on his knees and squinted thoughtfully. Ike handed him the knife and he hefted it in his hand.
“I don’t think that Blair ever threw it,” he said. “It looks like one that Pete Torres might use.”
“If Blair had nothin’ to do with it, why did he start shootin’ at Stevens?” asked Musical.
“I don’t know, Musical.”
Big Medicine handed back the knife.
“This will start trouble, won’t it?” asked Hashknife.
“Very likely,” said Big Medicine. “The K-10 outfit is not a crew of men you can talk things over with.”