CHAPTER IX: CULTUS CRACKS A TEN-MINUTE EGG
And then Kendall Marsh came to Painted Valley; came in the night and went straight out to the Triangle X. He still wore a few strips of adhesive plaster where the bullet had torn his scalp, but otherwise he was in good shape. Marsh had no idea of who had fired that shot. He was positive that Blaze did not do it.
And he appreciated Blaze’s motive in making his getaway from the house, rather than to stay and be found by the police. Marsh was correct in his surmise that Blaze did not stop to investigate the potency of that bullet, took a chance that it was fatal, and had faded from sight. The sheriff had not answered Marsh’s query regarding the whereabouts of Blaze Nolan, nor had Blaze told him he was in Painted Valley; so Marsh came to see for himself.
“Well, he’s here,” said Butch Van Deen, as they sat in the kitchen of the Triangle X that night, while Chihuahua, the Chinese cook, prepared a meal for Marsh.
“He’s stayin’ with that half-breed at the Circle M. I ain’t seen much of him. The boys heard a hint that the cattlemen had a meetin’ to-night at the JK ranch, but it was too late for any of us to sneak out and see what it was all about.
“That gang is all suspicious of us, Marsh. Everybody in this valley kinda look sideways at us.”
“Was Blaze Nolan at that meeting, Butch?”
“I dunno who was there. I don’t believe he was though. He ain’t so well liked around here. They all know you bought that bank, and that their mortgages are hogtied.”
“I’m buying the War Dance Saloon, Butch.”
“Yeah? That’s fine. And while yo’re here, I wish you’d step on yore kid. He won’t take orders from anybody, and if somethin’ ain’t done, you’ll have a first-class funeral in yore family. I’ve herded him as close as I could. He started trouble with a lean, homely mug of a puncher down at the War Dance, and got throwed out on his ear. I tried to interfere and got knocked cold.”