“Nothin’,” wearily. “I wish Broad Arrow had more horse thieves and fewer Ladies’ Aid Societies. I guess mebby I’ll move up here and let you run the office down there.”
“If yuh do, I’ll quit yuh, Buck.”
“I suppose. Well, I’ll stay as long as I can, and then shoot myself loose. Let’s go over and git a shot of hooch. I hate tea.”
CHAPTER IV: CULTUS COMES TRAILING
Old Jim Kelton, familiarly known as “Uncle Jimmy” by every one in Painted Valley, sat in the cool shade of the upper verandah of the JK ranch-house. He was sagged forward, an elbow on the arm of his chair, his chin resting in the palm of his hand, his eyes half closed. In his other hand he held a sheet of writing paper, which had been folded to fit an envelope.
A closer inspection would have revealed a letter, which read:
“Dear Uncle Jimmy:
“Just to let you know that Kendall Marsh has pulled enough wires to get Blaze Nolan out on parole, and Nolan is to report at once to Marsh in Los Angeles. You are welcome to this information, if it is of any value. Best regards to you and all the family.
“Sincerely your old friend,
“Lew.”
The letter was dated the preceding month. Lew Miller was an old friend of the Kelton family, employed as assistant warden at the state penitentiary. Uncle Jimmy had received the letter about a week previous to the time Nolan had kept his appointment with Kendall Marsh.
Jane Kelton leaned against one of the arches of the veranda, dressed in a cool, white garment, looking off across the valley, where the heat waves danced in the afternoon sun.
“Harry tells me that Nolan is stayin’ out at the Circle M,” said the old ranchman.