“You better answer that, Sudden,” he grinned.
“Well, all right,” grudgingly. “I’ll admit that Hartley made a clean sweep. I’ll help a little by puttin’ Allison where he belongs.”
“Let’s talk about it a little,” said Hashknife. “It appears to me that we all forgot Allison, until he chirps up and asks us what to do with him. My idea of the right thing to do would be to ask Mr. Allison to grab his hat, rattle his hocks out of this country and promise to never come back.”
“You mean—to turn him loose?” asked the sheriff, a trifle amazed. “Why, he’s a rustler——”
“Was, yuh mean,” Hashknife grinned softly. “I reckon he’s what you’d call a complete cure, Sudden.”
The sheriff scratched his head; his eyes squinted thoughtfully.
“You ought to be satisfied, Sudden,” observed Sunshine. “You’ve got enough now to brag about for the rest of yore life.”
Some one laughed. Sudden hunched his shoulders and glared at Sunshine, but turned to Allison, half choking with anger.
“You here yet? Whatsa matter—ain’t yuh got no horse? Want us to haul yuh away? My ——, some folks can’t take a hint!”
He whirled on his heel and barked an order at Sunshine.