“A twenty-two don’t make much noise, Sleepy.”
“F’r gosh sake! No wonder. Probably used longs; them little guns are beef killers. Looks as though the killers didn’t want to be heard, eh?”
“Looks thataway,” agreed Hashknife, mounting his horse. “Let’s ride down and see how Conley is feelin’.”
The doctor had gone to town a short time before they arrived. Conley was conscious, but the doctor had left orders with Dawn that he was to see no one. She came outside to talk with them.
“What did he have to say?” asked Hashknife. “Did he know who shot him?”
Dawn nodded, her eyes filled quickly with tears.
“Jimmy, eh?” said Hashknife softly.
“Yes. The doctor wouldn’t let him talk much.”
“Of course not; but the doctor thinks he’ll get well, don’t he?”
“He thinks Dad has a good chance now.”