“Can’t we both ride your horse? I can’t go back after mine. There was a lot of shooting out there at the Triangle X, and I—I want to talk with dad. Who is this coming?”
It was Cultus Collins. He rode up to the front of the store and dismounted, whistling softly. He saw Jane and smiled at her as he removed his big hat, and they saw a smear of blood across the back of his left hand.
“Still shoppin’?” he asked pleasantly, and then he saw the dusty and torn condition of her clothes.
“It shore is dusty in this country,” he smiled. “I picked up a brown mare, wearin’ a saddle. I think she’s got a JK brand. I wasn’t sure who she belonged to; so I tied her at a hitchrack at the far end of town. I didn’t want to get arrested for stealin’ horses, yuh know.”
“Where did yuh find her?” demanded Harry quickly.
“Oh, jist around somewhere. Good night.”
He went out to his horse and led it down the street to the stable.
“Was Collins out there?” Harry asked his sister.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll bet he was; he’s one of Marsh’s spies.”