“The man I came here after is a horse-thief and a murderer. I’m not sure who he is, yet. But he knows I’m after him. Kelton, the man who dynamited that trail, to-night, rode my stolen gray horse. He rode without a saddle, and the horse bucked him off when I whistled a certain signal. Yore daughter and me rode the horse from Padre Canyon to here, and he’s tied out behind yore stable right now.”
“Well, that’s a remarkable thing! Where did the man go?”
“Off in the brush.”
“Do you suppose he was one of the men who tried to kill you?”
“Quien sabe?”
“Well, that’s sure queer. Collins, where do you suppose Blaze Nolan has gone? He is undoubtedly in the employ of Kendall Marsh, and I’m wondering if he didn’t go over the range on that Lost Trail. He could hide somewhere around Marshville indefinitely.”
“I don’t think Blaze Nolan has ever left this valley.”
“That’s a queer statement, Collins. Why should he stay here?”
“He might not be able to get away.”
“You mean he’s afraid to show himself?”