“I don’t know. Why, I don’t even know the man.”
“I never seen him before either,” declared the merchant. “He came in a while ago with Oyster, Eskimo and Johnny. They were all pretty full, I think. Anyway, they outfitted this young man with everything. Even bought a six-gun, and loaded it for him. He left his other clothes, wrapped up, in the back room.”
The sheriff moved in closer.
“Wasn’t it one of the AK boys that done the shootin’, Lee?”
“No.”
“The stranger,” said one of the men. “Did yuh hear his name, Abe?”
“They introduced him to me. Said his name was Legg.”
“Legg?” queried Barnhardt blankly. He shook his head slowly. “I dunno anybody by that name.”
“I don’t either—and he shot at me,” said the sheriff.
“He’s prob’ly one of them peculiar jiggers that would rather shoot strangers than acquaintances,” said the merchant dryly.