“The envelop will show who it’s for,” said Hashknife easily.
Spot Easton turned to the bartender.
“‘Windy,’ how many times do I have to tell you not to let Lonesome have any more whisky?”
“Lay off the bartender,” advised Hashknife. “I paid for the old man’s drink, if you care to know.”
Spot Easton seemed to see Hashknife for the first time, and the discovery did not please him.
“Who in —— are you?” he growled.
“Me?” Hashknife grinned. “I’m the li’l jasper that’s goin’ to make you give the letter back to Lonesome Lee.”
“Yeah?”
Easton’s brows lifted in surprize, as he looked Hashknife over appraisingly.
“How are you goin’ to do it, if I may ask?”