“Did you come up here to pick a fight?” queried Barnhardt.
“Any old time I look for trouble, I won’t pick out a —— wide-mouthed lawyer, that’s a cinch.”
Porter turned on his heel and went to the stable, where he saddled his horse and rode out of town.
Barnhardt waited until the three riders had left the sheriff’s office, and then went down there. The sheriff looked quizzically at him.
“I thought you was goin’ away this mornin’, Lee.”
“Changed my mind,” said Barnhardt. “May go tomorrow.”
The sheriff nodded and looked at some papers on his desk.
“Hartley went away this mornin’,” offered Barnhardt.
The sheriff looked up.
“Yeah, they said he did; went to Encinas.”