“Do yuh reckon Mary Jane went home?” asks Windy.
“She didn’t pass us,” says I.
“The female took a shot at Peeler,” insists the skinny puncher. “I seen it. Peeler yanked his gun to—well, just then Snag shot from over there on the sidewalk, and I seen Peeler fall off. I dunno which shot hit him.”
“I tell yuh that first shot hit.”
We whirled and rode for the sheriff’s office and didn’t wait to hear the finish of the argument. Their two horses are outside the door. We hops right off and went inside. The sheriff and Bowers are in there. Bowers is setting on the table, working some shells into a Winchester, while the sheriff is washing his wrist where Hashknife’s bullet creased it. Bowers drops the rifle and puts his hands up, but the sheriff keeps right on bathing his wrist. He just looks at us and then back to his wash-basin. Hashknife says:
“Sheriff, for a dobie cent I’d fill you full of lead. Where is Miss Haley?”
“I dunno. Mebbe she’s at the Bar 20 by this time. I reckon Snag Thorn will know what to do with her when he catches her.”
“What in —— does he want her for?” asks Hashknife.
“Snag’s lost two men and a lot of cows and maybe he’s seein’ a chance to get even.”
Bang!