Hashknife laughed.
“I was shootin’ for general results. A man runnin’ in the dark, jumpin’ through a broken wall, is a hard target. And when yuh hit a man with a .45 in any spot, except his hands, arms, or the end of his nose, he won’t go far; so I’ll admit that I missed ’em.”
For the next two nights Hashknife and Sleepy guarded the place, but no one came. The sheriff visited them, but they did not mention anything about the latest development. Hashknife was very thoughtful all the while, but admitted that he was getting nowhere in his deductions. He talked with Marion about Tex Alden and Le Moyne, and she seemed surprized when he told her that it was the general opinion that there was a rivalry over her between Tex and Le Moyne.
“Why, that is ridiculous,” she told Hashknife. “Mr. Le Moyne used to drop in here once in a while, but he hasn’t been here for over a month, except when they all came out to see the ruins of our bunk-house.”
“As far as Tex is concerned, the opinion ain’t far off, is it?”
Marion flushed.
“I liked Tex all right,” she admitted. “He is nice, as long as his temper doesn’t run away with him. Tex has a bad temper, you know.”
“And he hates Jimmy Legg, because Jimmy Legg happens to be here,” observed Hashknife.
Marion looked at Hashknife, her eyes puzzled. Then—
“You don’t think Tex was the one—” she hesitated.