‘That’s right, I reckon. Nobody ever thought of it bein’ an accident. Let’s go and find that horse. I want to take the saddle back to Cañonville for evidence, too. After I explain things to the prosecutin’ attorney, he’ll have to turn young Lane loose. Now, if we could only discover that Peter Morgan accidentally killed himself.’
‘Mebby he butted his head against the stable,’ suggested Sleepy, as they rode up through the swale.
‘I reckon we’ll have to look farther than that,’ smiled Hashknife.
They found the carcass of the horse, and Lem verified what Hashknife had told him about the broken shoulder. The reins were still twisted around the left foot of the animal. They fastened the saddle behind the saddle on Lem’s horse, and went back to the road, where Lem left them and went back to Cañonville. He was anxious to get Walter Lane out of jail.
It was still early in the afternoon, and they discovered that both of them were almost out of tobacco.
‘Might as well head for Mesa City and stock up,’ said Hashknife. ‘We can get back by suppertime. Might also pick up a few cans of groceries, ’cause I figure Nan’s cupboard is jist about cleaned out.’
They found the three boys from the 6X6 in town, already a little more than half-drunk, quarreling over a dice game.
‘We’ve done quit the 6X6,’ said Spike Cahill, ‘so yuh don’t need to be scared of us. We’re plumb neutral now. Old Dave Morgan came out and took charge to-day. In fact he became so damn full of ownership that we pulled out and left him flat.’
‘That’s what he told us,’ said Hashknife.
‘Yeah? I suppose he’s braggin’ about it. I’d just like to bend him so bad that every time he coughed he’d snag his nose on his own spurs.’