Lem was carrying the breakfast dishes back to the restaurant when Hashknife rode back to the front of the office. He did not explain where he had been nor why he had gone, but, as he waited for Lem to come back from the restaurant, Sleepy heard Hashknife humming:
I know a girl down Pecos wa-a-ay,
And I’m goin’ to marry her some da-a-ay.
Her pa’s in jail and can’t get bail,
They rode her ma out of town on a ra-a-ail.
Her lips are red and her hair is black,
She shot the sheriff in the ba-a-ack.
Oh, how my heart for her does pi-i-ine,
’Cause she’s my little clingin’ vi-i-ine.
And Sleepy knew the symptoms. It was not often that Hashknife sang. He was not at all musical. Just now he was deadly serious, and it is doubtful if he realized that he was singing.
‘Feelin’ good, cowboy?’ asked Sleepy.
Hashknife looked at him quickly.
‘Yeah, I feel pretty good, Sleepy.’
Lem came back from the restaurant. He didn’t ask Hashknife where he had been.
‘Get on yore horse,’ said Hashknife. ‘We’re goin’ to Mesa City.’
They mounted and rode away after Lem had locked the office door. At the upper end of the street they met Bunty Smith, and Lem drew up his horse.
‘Goin’ to be here all day, Bunty?’ he asked.