“No, I never met the gent, but I heard his name mentioned. I reckon he’s the big man over in that country, ain’t he? Heard ’em sayin’ that he was shot a while ago, but his head was so hard that the bullet couldn’t get in.”
“I didn’t hear about that,” said Uncle Jimmy quickly. “Who shot him, Collins?”
“I didn’t hear any of the details, but I did happen to hear the date,” and Collins gave them the exact date, which was about three weeks before. Uncle Jimmy looked keenly at Harry, who evidently was not interested in the exact date.
“Is Marsh well known around here?” asked Collins.
“Well enough,” grunted Harry, “to get him a short stay, if he ever shows up again—him or any of his damn sheep spies.”
“We won’t discuss that, Harry,” said his father. “If Mr. Collins is ready to eat⸺”
“Y’betcha, I’m ready,” smiled Collins. Uncle Jimmy walked to the dining-room with him, and after they had gone in, Jane came out.
“Who is the stranger?” she asked as Harry joined her.
“Says his name is Collins. Dad thinks, and so do I, that he’s one of Marsh’s men. He told dad about Kendall Marsh gettin’ shot. Said he heard it in Marshville. And he gave dad the exact date.”
“And we gave dad the date⸺” Jane faltered. Harry laughed shortly.