“No? Well, that’s good. I talked with Tex the other day. He admits that it looks as if he done it.”
Marion called to them from the rear door, and they headed for the wash-bench, dropping the subject of Tex Alden.
And while they ate dinner at the Double Bar 8, Lee Barnhardt rode into Blue Wells, stabled his horse and went to see the doctor, who did a little to alleviate the pain in his jaw. Back in his office, he filled his pipe and tried to enjoy a smoke, but flung the pipe aside, because he couldn’t keep his mind on tobacco. It was the one time in his life that Lee Barnhardt was thoroughly mad. Just now he hated everybody, and everything— especially Tex Alden.
And while his anger was at fever-heat, Scotty Olson, the sheriff, walked into the office.
“How’s yore jaw?” asked the sheriff.
“None of your —— business!”
The exclamation seemed to hurt Lee’s jaw, and he clapped a hand to the side of his face, shutting one eye tightly.
“I reckon it’s all well,” said the sheriff sarcastically. “Tex hit yuh a dinger of a punch, didn’t he. I never did see a feller flatten out prettier than you did. My ——, you was jist about as animated as a scarecrow, after yuh pull the braces out of it! I asked Tex a while ago why he hit yuh, and he said for me to ask you.”
“And you came to ask me, did you?” Barnhardt was almost crying with anger. “You haven’t a brain in your head.”
“I thought there was a reason,” said the sheriff mildly. “Of course, if he was jist doin’ it for fun—”