“Fine. Who else in Black Horse valley has a twenty-two rifle?”
“Mm-m-m-m,” Pete scratched his head thoughtfully. “By golly, I dunno. Nobody, I guess. I not know any one. You want use mine? You tell Dawn—”
“I don’t want it, Pete—thanks.”
“She shoot good.”
“Yeah,” sighed Hashknife.
“What about a twenty-two rifle?” asked Roaring.
“You don’t know anybody who owns one, do you?”
“I don’t; didn’t even know Pete owned one.”
“You’re a lot of help to me,” sighed Hashknife. “Much obliged to you, Pete.”
They went back into the office and sat down. Hashknife knew that Roaring was itching to know; so he told him that the Big 4 steers had been killed with a twenty-two rifle.