“Him!” Scotty laughed. “Which man would he make? Not the big feller that fought the messenger. And —— knows he ain’t one of the masked men that blew the safe.”
“Don’t be too sure. He’d look pretty —— big behind a black mask, looking over the top of a six-gun. That engine crew was so —— scared they wouldn’t have known whether they were big men or small ones.”
“How do you know how scared they was, Tex?”
The sheriff snapped the question quickly. Tex stiffened slightly and his shoulder swayed away from the wall.
“Just figurin’ ’em to be human,” he said softly.
“Oh, yeah.” The sheriff’s smile was hidden behind his big mustache. “I reckon we’ll get along all right. It takes time to figure out things, Tex. Wade’s no fool. He’s investigatin’ every clue—him and Porter. I understand that the Santa Rita has hired a detective. Him and Le Moyne are on the case, kinda workin’ independent of my office, I suppose.” Scotty smiled. “But that’s all right. We want the men who got that thirty thousand.”
Tex nodded coldly.
“Good luck to yuh, Scotty. But if I was you, I wouldn’t look for them men in Blue Wells. They’re a —— of a long ways from here, I’ll betcha.”
“I’m no —— palmist,” said Scotty slowly. “If they’re out of the county I can’t do nothin’, but if they’re around here, I’m goin’ after ’em good and hard.”
“Sure,” nodded Tex, and went after his horse, while the sheriff looked after him quizzically.