“I’ve got to put this animile in the stable,” he told them. “He ain’t much of a vehicle, but he was all I could get.”
He started away with the animal and Silent turned triumphantly to Grant and Hunter.
“Somethin’ is due to drop pretty danged hard, gents. He knowed them guns had been monkeyed with, didn’t he? Grins all over his face, too. Don’t want to talk, does he? That’s Brick Davidson. He’s got somethin’ on his mind, I tell yuh.”
“I hope so,” sighed Grant.
“I’ve got to see Harp,” declared Silent. “Stuck with a knife, eh? By golly, they sure do use every old kind of a weapon. Next thing we know somebody will get bit.”
Silent strode away, shaking his head, while Grant and Hunter crossed the street to the saloon.
“Do yuh think Brick has got any ideas?” queried Slim.
“I’ll betcha,” nodded Grant. “And what’s more, I’m glad that I can stand investigation.”
“Holy cats, me, too!” snorted Slim.
Brick turned the mule over to Jimmy Meeker and went back up the street, where he spent a little time looking at what was left of that side of the street. Miss Miller came down the street, but did not see Brick until face to face with him. She was carrying some school-books. He tipped his hat and grinned, and only real quickness on his part saved her books from falling into the ashes.