“Oh, is that so?” The big man’s bushy brows lifted in mock surprize. “I’m not a wizard, Hartwell. In fact I don’t know what in —— you are talkin’ about.”
“That’s a lie, King! She came here tonight, and I came after her.” Jack’s hand clenched and unclenched over the butt of his gun. “Come on—tell me where she is.”
The big man sighed and motioned to a camp chair.
“Set down, Hartwell. I’m not in the habit of lettin’ men tell me that I lie, but you’ve kinda got the edge on me this time. At the risk of bein’ called a liar again, I tell you that I haven’t seen Molly. —— it, I haven’t seen her since you stole her away from me.”
“I didn’t steal her,” denied Jack hotly. “She went willingly. You knew she was goin’, too. Was it a trick, King? Did she marry me to supply you with information?”
“Eh?” King scowled at the questions. “Did she marry you to—hm-m-m! What made you think she came up here?”
“She’s gone. I just came from home. One of your men took a note to her. I reckon he came home with a smashed arm, didn’t he?”
King nodded slowly.
“We expected a few smashes. There are more to come.”
“But that don’t tell me where my wife is, King.”