“This train got off the track at Turkey Track sidin’, so I loaned ’em the outfits to ride over to catch their train. They were to leave the horses tied to the old loadin’ corral. Later on I got to thinkin’ what a fool I was to let ’em have them horses, so I saddles the pinto and takes a straight cut toward the sidin’.
“It was doggone slow goin’, I’ll tell yuh. I hunted in the dark for a shallow crossin’ of the river, and wasted a lot of time thataway, finally havin’ to swim across. Well, I finally got to the sidin’, but don’t see my horses.
“Just about that time I hears a lot of shootin’ goin’ on down by the old river crossin’. I rode down there, but finds that the shootin’ is gettin’ farther away all the time. Then I waited until daylight and came in over the old road. About a mile from here I finds my roan horse lyin’ right in the middle of the road, too dead to skin. I took the saddle—and that’s all I know.”
“Well, that’s quite a lot, Sudden,” observed Marsh.
“Yeah, it’s quite a lot, but not enough. Jack must know somethin’ about it, but he won’t talk.”
“Why should I talk?” asked Jack coldly. “I never fired any of the shots, and I don’t know who killed your horse.”
The sheriff sighed and hooked his thumbs over his belt. He was plainly exasperated, so exasperated that he forgot caution.
“His wife answered my knock at the door,” he said, indicating Jack, “and her head is all tied up in bandages. She looks like she’d been run through a threshing machine.”
“You leave my wife out of this, Sudden!” snapped Jack. “She had nothin’ to do with it. If you want to find out anythin’, you better find them two strange cowpunchers.”
“Yeah, and I’ll do that too!” snorted Sudden. “They’ll talk, or I’ll know why.”