“Don’t jiggle me!” laughed Jimmy. “My face is so tight I can hardly laugh.”
“Don’t laugh,” advised Eskimo. “Now who do yuh know that might hate yuh enough to shoot yuh, Jimmy?”
Jimmy frowned painfully at the floor, and when he looked up he caught Marion’s eye. Tex Alden’s threat came back to him—
“The Blue Wells country is sure damp for your kind.”
Jimmy tried to smile, but it was only a grimace.
“I dunno,” he said slowly. “I haven’t had any trouble with any one here, except that day I accidently shot at the sheriff and the lawyer.”
“But that was an accident,” said Johnny. “Nobody blames yuh for that. Somebody wanted to kill yuh, kid.”
“Maybe,” faltered Jimmy, “they mistook me for somebody else.”
As Jimmy spoke he was looking at Marion, and he switched his eyes to Hashknife, who was watching him closely. The eyes of the tall cowboy seemed to bore into him, and Jimmy turned away.
“You was talkin’ with Miss Taylor just a minute or so before yuh got shot, eh?” Oyster Shell had an idea.