“Oh, all right, I’m not going to discuss my personal affairs with you, Hartley. What I do is none of your business.”
Ryker turned on his heel and walked away.
“You stick to your own business then,” said Hashknife.
“And you stick to your own,” retorted Ryker hotly.
Hashknife laughed softly and went back to Sleepy.
The doctor came again that night. Sleepy had not developed any fever, and the doctor was jubilant. In the morning he was stiff and sore, but cheerful. Horse-Collar Fields came fairly early in the morning and offered to stay with Sleepy as long as Hashknife wanted him to stay.
The court was to open at ten o’clock, but Hashknife did not care about the opening of the case. He saddled his horse and rode out toward the Conley ranch. Near the ford he met Doctor Shelley and Dawn. The doctor had told Dawn about the shooting of Sleepy, and the girl was full of sympathy.
“He’s able to cuss this mornin’; so he’ll get well,” laughed Hashknife. “How’s your father?”
“Just fine, Mr. Hartley.”
“I wonder if I could talk with him.”