“I don’t quite make him out,” he said, “If he’s one of Marsh’s spies, I congratulate Marsh. This man is no fool, and that smile of his⸺”
“I wouldn’t bank too much on a grin,” advised Harry.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m suspicious of everythin’ that comes out of Red Horse Pass.”
“Chongo liked him,” said Jane.
“Smelled sheep on his boots,” grunted Harry. “We’ll keep an eye on this homely gent.”
His father told him what Cultus had said about seeking a stolen horse. Harry laughed shortly.
“That’s a good alibi to get in here, but I’ll make you a bet that Collins packs a message to the Triangle X. Stolen horse! Probably stole plenty himself, if the truth were known. If you’ll explain more about that message you spoke of, dad, we’ll get started on your idea of holdin’ a meetin’.”
“Let’s go back to the balcony, Harry; my leg hurts pretty bad again.”
Harry helped his father up the stairs and to his easy chair, where the old man sank down with a sigh of relief. He filled his pipe, and when it was drawing well he turned to Harry.
“Who shot Kendall Marsh, Harry?”