“But where in —— have they gone?” demanded Jack.
“Mebbe they’ve gone where the woodbine twineth and the cuckoo calleth for its mate. But they haven’t!” Hashknife’s jaw snapped shut. “Lo Lo Valley has been buncoed, Jack. While every cattleman and cowpuncher have cooled their heels on a dead-line against sheep, rustlers have cleaned out their cattle.”
“My ——!” exploded Jack. “Do you think so, Hartley?”
“I know so. Me and Sleepy cut their trail the night we came here, and they killed a horse under me. We’ve seen ’em since then. It looks like this Jack Noonan has brought his gang from Sunland Basin over here to take advantage of the sheep invasions, and by grab, he’s sure makin’ a cleanup.”
“What’ll we do?” asked Jack helplessly. “There’s a gang of ’em to contend with.”
“And they know danged well that they won’t dare to desert the dead-line,” said Hashknife. “Jack, this bunch of cow thieves have got Lo Lo Valley by the neck.”
“By ——, they sure have!”
“But, of course—” Hashknife grinned over his cigaret—“it ain’t as though us three were losin’ anythin’. Me and Sleepy ain’t got no interests here, and they’ve handed you so much —— that they can’t expect you to break yore neck to help ’em out. So—” Hashknife scratched a match and puffed on his cigaret—“So we’ll just step aside and let ’em find it out to their sorrow.
“They’ve kinda handed me and Sleepy the worst of it, too. We’ve been accused of all kinds of things since we showed up here. They even wanted to hang us, I reckon. And, takin’ it all in all, we don’t owe ’em anythin’—none of us, eh, Jack?”
Jack squinted thoughtfully and looked away across the hills. Hashknife and Sleepy exchanged a quick glance and waited for Jack to speak. Finally he turned to Hashknife.