“Do yuh reckon he lied?” asks Hashknife.
“No, I don’t. Barrin’ the fact that he works for the Bar 20, Baldy ain’t such a bad hombre. I worked with him on the Seven Bar Seven Horse outfit, and he ain’t the kind that would lie thataway. Likely he just got it in his mind, don’t yuh know? Kinda knowin’ he was on the Circle Dot Range, and then gettin’ shot thataway, he might ’a’ imagined somebody yelled at him.”
“I reckon somebody yelled at him,” says Hashknife.
“Yuh think he—uh—told the truth?” asks Windy.
“I dunno. Mebbe they did and mebbe they didn’t. If they did, the Circle Dot has got it on the Bar 20, ’cause nobody yelled at me, that’s a cinch.”
“I reckon they keeps close watch on us,” opines Windy.
We rides back to the ranch and the next morning we went to Sundown City. As we rides in past the little depot, the agent yells at us and we goes over. He’s got a telegram for us, which reads:
WILL ARRIVE WEDNESDAY. HANG ON UNTIL I GET THERE.
Signed M. J. HALEY.
“Holy henhawks!” explodes Windy. “He’s comin’! Hang on until I get there! That sounds like old Mike’s voice. Betcha forty dollars he’s a go-getter.”