We ripped right into their front yards, and set up our horses. Just then Snag Thorn limps out of the front door and looks us over. I’ll say this much for him; he didn’t act a danged bit nervous.
“Where’s our boss?” asks Hashknife.
“Your boss?” he says, foolish-like.
“The lady you followed out of town.”
“Oh!”
He looks us over for a moment and then says, kinda soft-like—
“That lady your boss?”
“Uh-huh. Where is she?”
“I don’t know. My horse fell with me and strained its shoulder. When I got up she was gone.”
“You tellin’ the truth?” asks Hashknife.