“One of ’em is ridin’ yore horse, ain’t he?” asked Honey Wier.
“Yeah; the tall one. The other one is ridin’ a horse that belongs to Jack Hartwell.”
“Jack Hartwell?”
“How’d he get that horse?”
“Where does Jack fit into this?”
“Are they friends of Jack?”
These questions and many others were hurled at the sheriff, who threw up both hands and proceeded to tell just how and why Sleepy Stevens was riding Jack Hartwell’s horse. He told them all about the killing of his horse, or rather Hashknife’s version of it.
“But who would shoot at them?” demanded Marsh Hartwell.
“Search me,” replied the sheriff wearily. “I don’t sabe it.”
“Aw, they’re lyin’ about it,” opined Allison.