“You don’t know very much, do you?”
“If I did,” said Windy slowly, “I wouldn’t be a bartender. I didn’t lie about not knowin’ where Spot Easton is, but Jake Blue and Blondy Hagen went through here a short time ago, headin’ for the 88.”
“Goin’ after help, eh?”
“Mm-m-m.”
Hashknife considered this. It was going to be very awkward if the sheriff brought the gang from the 88 outfit to help him serve the warrants.
“How many punchers on the 88?” he asked.
“Seven, I reckon.”
“That makes nine, countin’ Blue and Hagen. Odd number, ain’t it? Wish it was ten.”
“For gosh sake, why?” grunted Windy.
“I hate to fight odd numbers,” said Hashknife seriously. “Kinda hoodoos me.”