“Probably came in to lose some more money.”
“Lost eight thousand to Antelope Neal yesterday,” said Porter. “Wonder where in —— he got so much money. He don’t own that X Bar 6.”
“Don’t he?”
“He sure as —— don’t. It belongs to an Eastern outfit.”
“Well, I don’t care a ——,” said Scotty.
He had enough worries of his own to think about. He smoothed his buffalo-horn mustache and almost wished he weren’t the sheriff of Blue Wells.
Tex Alden left his horse and started across the street toward a store, when Lee Barnhardt called to him from the door of his office. Tex turned and went over to the door of the lawyer’s office, where Barnhardt was standing.
“I just wondered if you wasn’t coming to see me, Tex,” smiled Barnhardt.
The big cowboy blinked, wondering just why he should make it a point to see Barnhardt that day.
“Why, I dunno,” he faltered. “Hadn’t thought of it, Lee.”