“No. I’m not connected with any outfit right now. The men in the association are too well known.”
“I s’pose,” nodded Brick thoughtfully. “Still yuh wasn’t able to find the right road, yuh know.”
Santel laughed softly.
“That’s right, sheriff.”
“Grant, you heard about Baldy Malloy, didn’t yuh?”
Grant hadn’t. He and Santel had just ridden in from Grant’s ranch, the old Star-Dot, located about six miles due north from Marlin City, on Whispering Creek.
It did not take Brick long to tell of the wreck, the finding of Malloy’s body and of their futile search for the youngster.
“Well, how in the did Malloy happen to drive off the grade?” wondered Grant. “He was a good driver.”
“I dunno,” sighed Brick. “It was one awful smash-up.”
“Was it back on those grades beyond where I met yuh?” asked Santel.