“Well, I reckon he’s workin’ for the Star-Dot outfit, ma’am.”
“For Mr. Grant?”
“Yes’m.”
“Do you know anything about him?”
“No, ma’am—not a thing. Did you ever see him before?”
“Yes. It was about a year ago, I think—in Idaho. This man was mixed up in some cattle and sheep trouble. It seems that he was hired as gun-man by the sheep interests. Anyway, a couple of cowboys were murdered, and every one seemed to think that this man was the guilty party. But he left the country ahead of the sheriff.”
“Tha’sso?” Brick was interested. “Are yuh sure this is the same man?”
“As sure as I can be. I have never met him, and he probably does not remember ever seeing me.”
“Well, that kinda makes him worth watchin’,” grinned Brick, as they went up to Wesson’s porch. “You just kinda keep still about this will yuh, ma’am? It won’t help none to scatter that kind of information; but I’m sure much obliged to yuh for tellin’ me about it.”
“You are certainly welcome, I am sure.”