‘All right; you lead. I’m the best little follower yuh ever saw.’
They rode away from the stable, just as a passenger train roared through the town. They were obliged to wait until the train had gone past before crossing the tracks. Suddenly Hashknife got an idea.
‘Do you know the depot agent very well, Lem?’ he asked.
‘Shore. Knowed him for a year or so.’
‘Let’s go over and see him.’
They tied their horses behind the depot and went around to the little waiting-room. The agent was busy with his telegraph instrument, but he finally turned in his chair and nodded to Lem.
‘Hyah, sheriff. What’s on yore mind?’
‘Shake hands with Mr. Hartley, Jim. Hashknife, this is Jim Horton.’
They shook hands.
‘You tell him what yuh want, Hashknife,’ said Lem.