“Be glad to have yuh, Hartley. Ride out with me, if yuh want to. If yuh don’t want to ride Hartwell’s horse, I’ll get yuh one.”
“Much obliged, Sheriff. See yuh later.”
They went outside, leaving the sheriff debating what to do about them. There was no doubt in his mind that they had purposely been left behind by that train. It was all too obvious. And as long as they were not in the employ of the cattlemen, it must be that they were employed by the sheepmen to work behind the cattle lines. The sheriff decided that these men were well worth watching. He did not care to share his suspicions with any one, as he wanted full credit when the dénouement came.
That night the inquest over Ed Barber’s body was held in the big bunk house at the Arrow. The low-ceiled room was hazy with tobacco smoke when Hashknife and Sleepy went in with the sheriff. At sight of the two strange cowboys the conversation stopped. Old Sam Hodges alone greeted them kindly.
Matthew Hale, the prosecuting attorney, and Doctor Owen, the coroner, had already drawn the jury, which consisted of Buck Ames and Mel Asher of the 404, Cloudy McKay of the Arrow, Gene Hill of the Bar 77, Abe Allison of the Turkey Track and Bert Allen of the Circle V.
Hashknife and Sleepy sat down near the door, feeling strangely out of place. They studied the faces of the crowd and decided that there were no mail-order cowpunchers present. They were a hard-looking, bronzed-faced crew of men, unkempt, heavily armed. The sheep had served to keep many of them from procuring clean clothes or using a razor.
But none of them asked questions regarding Hashknife and Sleepy. The fact that they had come with the sheriff kept many from wondering why these two strangers came to the inquest. There was no delay in the proceedings. Honey Wier was put on the stand and described how he had found old Ed Barber, and what the old man had said to him.
“Nossir, he didn’t say who shot him,” declared Honey. “Somebody sneaked in on the old man and popped him over the head, so he told me, They tied him up. Nossir, he didn’t know who shot him.”
That was the sum and substance of the evidence. Old Ed had told them practically the same story before the doctor had come. Doctor Owen testified to the fact that the old man had died from two gunshot wounds, which had been made by a .38-55 caliber rifle.
And with this evidence the jury brought in the usual verdict to the effect that old Ed Barber had come to his death from gunshot wounds, inflicted by a party or parties unknown.