“Well, don’t brag about it, Sleepy. If yuh ever do anythin’ real big, I’d like to hear about it, but don’t bother me with little incidents. Blow out that lamp, if yuh ain’t run out of wind, and c’mon to bed.”
Early the following morning Ike Marsh rode into Pinnacle. He was too anxious to wait for the news, so came in to get it first hand. Guarded inquiries revealed the fact that Hashknife and Sleepy were at the hotel, and a short conversation with one of the swampers at the Greenback Saloon informed him that the body of Sam Blair was in a vacant storeroom.
Then Baldy Kern and Jack Baum rode in and tied their horses at the Greenback rack. Ike, being discreet, went out the back door and came around to the front just in time to meet the sheriff.
“Howdy, Lon,” he said, wondering just how much the sheriff knew.
“Hello, Ike,” returned the sheriff. “What do yuh know?”
Ike shook his head. That was the trouble; he wanted to know something. The sheriff squinted at the horses at the rack.
“Baldy Kern rode in early,” he observed. “I reckon he wants to see where Sam Blair was shot. Yuh heard about it, didn’t yuh?”
Ike spat dryly and shook his head. The sheriff told him about Hashknife and Sleepy’s finding Blair’s body beside the road, and Ike marveled greatly.
“Who done it, do yuh suppose?” he asked.