“I see,” Hashknife nodded and rubbed his long nose. “Bill, what kind of a jigger is Eph King?”
“Hashknife, he’s one of the best yuh ever knew. Oh, I know he’s a sheepman, and all that. He’s got a bad name.” Steen shifted his position and inhaled deeply. “If King was the tough —— they’ve called him, we’d have sheep below Totem City by this time. But he don’t want a lot of killin’. He’s waitin’—well, I dunno.”
“Waitin’ for what, Bill?” queried Hashknife smiling.
“Well, he—he——” Steen faltered. “He thought it would be the best thing to do, Hashknife.”
“All right, Bill. I reckon we’ll be goin’ along.”
“Goin’ back to Totem City?” asked Steen, as they mounted.
“Eventually,” said Hashknife. “Got any word yuh want sent to King?”
Steen smiled grimly, but shook his head.
“Come and see me ag’in, both of yuh,” he said. “There’s always grub and a blanket waitin’ for yuh.”
“Thank yuh, Bill. Adios.”