“The theory is fine,” agreed Hashknife. “But there’s one big flaw in it, gents. One horse was a roan and the other is a dark bay. At night nobody could identify ’em. And another thing; would they be lookin’ for you and Sunshine to come out there last night?”
“And that,” said old Sam, “picks a big hole in the idea.”
“Yeah, it does,” agreed the sheriff. “I’m goin’ to put this horse in the stable and get me some breakfast. You fellers had breakfast?”
“Just exactly,” replied Sleepy.
“Well, I’ll see yuh later.”
The sheriff turned his horse and started to ride away, but drew rein. A cowboy was riding toward them, coming in from the north. He swung off his horse and nodded to Hodges.
“I wonder if Hork has got any ammunition,” he said.
“I ain’t been in there,” said Hodges, “but I don’t reckon he’s had time to get any yet.”
“Uh-huh.”
The cowboy glanced at the sheriff and nodded. Then he looked at Hashknife and Sleepy. For a moment he squinted, and a peculiar expression flashed across his face. He turned awkwardly and struck his shin against the wooden sidewalk, swore softly and went into the store.